


Identity Crisis

by Donotmind_mehere



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Anger, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Archivist Jonathan Sims, Attempted Murder, Beholding Avatar Sasha James, Cannibalism, Canon Asexual Character, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Developing Friendships, Dimension Cannon, Dimension Travel, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Episode: e081 A Guest for Mr. Spider (The Magnus Archives), Established Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Found Family, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Friendship falling apart, Grumpy Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Heavy Angst, Hunt Avatar Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist is Bad at Feelings, Kidnapping, Lonely Avatar Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Lonely Avatar Martin Blackwood, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Multi, Murder, Oooooo, Other, POV First Person, POV Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, POV Martin Blackwood, POV Sasha James, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, References to Depression, Sasha James Lives, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Spoilers, Time Shenanigans, Time Skips, Time Travel, Vast Avatar Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Web Avatar Martin Blackwood, argument, rip mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donotmind_mehere/pseuds/Donotmind_mehere
Summary: Makes you almost wish, you had been Mr. Spider's guest.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Danny Stoker/Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & The Web, Martin Blackwood/The Lonely, Michael "Mike" Crew/The Vast, Simon Fairchild & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Beholding/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Hunt & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Tim Stoker & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 22
Kudos: 84





	1. Be Our Guest

After he was unintentionally saved from the fate Mr. Spider had in store for him, Jon decided he’d had enough reading for a bit. He still however needed to fill the time with something and decided that maybe he’d satisfy his curiosity with exploration of a more legal variety. So he took to walking up and down streets of his neighborhood, counting how many of whatever thing he found interesting there was and bombarding his grandmother with questions about said item when he got home. It was on one such day, when the object of his fixation was glasses. He had just gotten a new pair recently and wondered extensively about who else had a new pair. It was at 15 pairs( 30 eyes in all if you were wondering) that Jon noticed he’d seen a specific man more than once. This made him nervous. For many reasons but the one being that, for all her lack of attentiveness, grandmother had always warned him not to talk to strangers under any circumstances and out of fear of getting a lecture or worse, a beating, Jon made a point to avoid him like the plague. 

This was moot however as the stranger kept following him. And following him. And following him. It seemed there was nowhere Jon could go that day, that the stranger wasn’t waiting around the corner. It was scaring Jon, so much more than his grandmother had ever or could ever hope to achieve. It was with this fear of being watched in mind, that Jon confronted the stranger about his rudeness. 

“Why do you keep following me?” He said loudly in the street he swore was busy a moment ago.

The stranger smiled coldly. 

“You’re a curious little one, aren’t you?” He said with little amusement.

“That’s what my grandma says.” Jon replied, unintentionally. 

“She does, doesn’t she. Does she know what happened to that bully of yours?” 

“No, she doesn’t know he was eaten.” The words flowed out of Jon like water from a faucet. He hadn’t intended to answer his questions but something about the stranger compelled him to. 

The stranger stared at him for a minute with a weird look on his face. Somewhere between amused and interested, it made Jon more nervous than he’d ever felt in his life. 

“Well, Jon, I must be on my way, I hope to see you soon.” And the stranger disappeared into the crowd of people that had most definitely not been there a moment ago. 

Jon ran home. He was terrified, his brain could only process so much information at one time. How had the stranger known about his grandma? How had he known about Mr. Spider? How did the stranger know his name?

Jon ran home and hoped beyond hope that there was something, anything he could do, but honestly, he just hoped that everything that had just happened was all imaginary. But despite his wishful thinking, Jon knew that whatever was wrong with the book his grandmother had bought him, the book that almost killed him, was exactly what was wrong with that stranger he had just encountered and he didn't want anything to do with it.

___ 

Officer Alice “Daisy” Tonner regretted every decision that led her to this point, some days she wondered if she actually lived in reality or was just in a fictional story told around the campfire, the story of a normal human, who had gotten sectioned one day and before they knew it, they were working working in a “security” force so Top Secret that the very mention of it could have you killed on sight. 

She hated it here, but a contract was a contract and she had seen what happened to the other “officers” that tried to break it. Daisy despite her very nature was scared of the building she worked in, scared of the men she worked for. 

She wasn't sure if it was because of the monsters that were housed here or if it was because depending on where she was in the building, the fear changed, one moment, she felt cold alone, terrified like a child at night who had a bad nightmare and there were no parents running to the rescue, then all of a sudden, the hallways would stretch for what seemed like mile upon miles and she’d wonder how long she’d been walking the same stretch of linoleum before the terror changed and changed and changed until she was in her office, with no one to keep her company except the ever present feeling of being watched. 

Daisy hated her life here. 

But what she hated even more than the building she worked in, was the men that she worked for. And speak of the devil, there was one right now about to approach her. 

“Good Afternoon, Officer Tonner.” He greeted her politely but also with giddiness he rarely displayed, it made Daisy’s stomach sink. 

“Afternoon, Mr. Bouchard.” She repeated with complete indifference, like most people here, she hated him, but could not do much to him, so her quiet resentment was all she had.

“Would you please follow me to my office? I have an assignment i would like to discuss with you, that is, if you don’t have anything else planned for the night.” 

She did in fact have something planned and they both knew this, he was just being polite in making his demand seem as though it was more of a request. 

“No, nothing at all, lead the way.” she replied absently. 

And so to his office they went, unaffected but the spooky goings on of the building.

“I think you know why I asked to speak with you today?” Elias said after the door to his office was shut.

“I suppose I do.” is all Officer Tonner replied it had been a while since the last kid she had to bring to Elias

“The same rules apply Officer Tonner, I expect you will be making quick work of this one, but please have fun, you’re doing a service to the world by bringing them here.” As he said this he handed her a file with the name “Jonathan Sims” on the lip. 

Daisy regretted every decision that let her to this point. Not just the police force, to having been sectioned, to being “asked” to work here, to having to round up these damn kids. 

Daisy regretted every decision that led her here in this office today but the second she read that file, there was no turning back, not that she could have said no or anything other than a polite nod and a promise to not kill the little monster. 

Daisy sighed and left the office, Basira was going to be pissed.

____

“Can i sleep with you tonight?” Is all Jon said when his grandmother put his plate of dinner in front of them.

“I beg your pardon?” was her response to the terrified eight year old’s question.

“I just, I,” Jon didn’t know  _ what _ to tell her, he knew he’d be in trouble if he told her he had been talking to a stranger, but was also concerned that if he didn’t tell her, something bad would happen. That feeling of being watched had not gone away since his encounter with the stranger yesterday, “I didn’t sleep well last night, I’m scared, i think something bad is going to happen.” tears pricked the corners of Jon’s eyes, the fear he exuded was palpable, but not even this would sway his grandmother.

“No, Jonathan, I’m too old to have a rowdy child kicking me in my sleep.” 

“But, grandmother!” the tears slowly fell from their ducts and unto his shirt.

“No.”

“Grandmother, plea-” 

“No Jonathan,” she interrupted him, “ now eat your dinner, I don't want to hear another word of this.” and so it was for the rest of the night Jon kept to himself, until it was time to go to bed. 

Wherein he checked door sturdiness and the lock’s effectiveness over and over again until he felt safe to go to sleep. If Jon had  _ known _ better, he would have checked the locks on his window too, you can never be too safe when you’re being hunted. 

____

It’s like tying your shoes or the more famous expression, like riding a bike. Once you know for sure there’s a monster out there, you never really forget how to hunt it down. First you start where they were first spotted, their scent will linger but it isn’t enough. So you’ll follow it, track it, chase it. Eventually , you’ll come to a place where the creature’s scent will burn in your nose like snow in the winter. They spend a lot of time here but you’re not close yet, but soon you will be. 

Their fear permeates the area and you can see it’s so strong, they’re afraid of being caught, of being killed, but mostly, of being hunted, they’re scared of you. It’s this fear that drives you and finally, after a while you’ll find the cave the monster calls home, the wolf in sheeps clothes, the being disguised as a child. 

Their fear saturates the air and the furniture around you, it’s a sickly sweet fog that billows out from under a door lip and invites you in. They locked the door in an attempt to keep you out, but you know what you’re doing, you’ve played this game before. You could have gone through the open window, but that would have been too easy, not as fun. So you make a lot of noise, on purpose of course, you want them to scream, you want them to run, because it is all those things that make the chase so much more fun. 

The air in your lungs, mixes with the sweat from their skin. The sound of their shreeks mixes with your laughter and chaotic glee. You are faster, their tiny legs and feigned helplessness won’t save them from the fate they brought on themselves. You will catch them, you always catch them. You never forget how to hunt, how to chase them down. It’s a game that you made up all the rules to, you can’t lose. You don’t lose. Your prize is the look in their eyes as you grab them by the throat and decide if this life is worth the lecture from your boss. Your prize are the tears that stain the monster’s cheeks as it tries to play on your sympathy. Your prize is the piss in its pants as it realizes you’re not going to let it go. Your prize is the game itself. The game you never lose. 

And after you’ve had your fill. Chasing the monster up and down the empty streets, giving it hope that maybe it’ll get away, watching it tire out and try to hide. You bring the little beast to it’s cage, locking the door and throwing away the key. 

The next one, won’t be so lucky.


	2. Welcome to the Magnus  Facility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's get to the point, you're here, forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Please enjoy the set up for the adventures to come.

Elias was not happy at all, but when was he ever. 

After his first and only encounter to this point, with Jonathan Sims, he had slowly come to realize that exposing him to multiple fears at one time might not work out fully in his favor. Sure he had been exposed to many fears in his short life span, but so were a lot of other people. Other people who were a lot more equipped to handle the undertaking of such a task. From what Elias had gathered about the boy, there were five points of interest. 

One, the boy had encountered a Liukner  book and lived, albeit accidentally. 

Two, that Liukner book was of the web

Three, he was hardly going to be missed by his caregiver.

Four, he was exceptionally bright for his age, almost supernaturally so. 

And lastly, whether it was despite his age, or because of it, he had been marked by the Beholding long before his intervention. 

There were many possible oppositions to the plan Elias had, but the greatest threat he faced was Gertrude. Despite all his efforts to convince her otherwise, she had always been frustratingly opposed to the idea of attempting The Watchers Crown. And now that the perfect opportunity had landed right in front of them, Elias swore on the eye of the beholding and the body of Jonah Magnus, he was not going to let anyone get in his way.

___

Jon sat in the corner of his new “home”. He clutched his knees to his chest and tried to ignore the smell of his pajamas bottoms. The room he was in was relatively comfortable, there was a small cot on the opposite corner, a desk, and nightstand with a lamp. If he was able to ignore the metal walls and the fact that he’d been kidnapped by a Dog Lady, he would think it was an upgrade from his former living conditions. There was something else about the room he was in, Jon wasn’t able to place, but for all the curiosity it  _ should _ have sparked in him, he just felt dull.

It had been hours since the door shut, before it opened again. And Jon was still in the corner of the room, still dully curious about his surroundings 

When an older woman greeted him,“Good Morning Jonathan.” she reminded him of his grandmother in a way. 

It might have been because she was older, but there was something about the door opening, and seeing the older lady’s bun and the way she looked at him unimpressed and uninterested, that spelled Grandmother to him. 

The door shut, and the older woman stared at him for a minute as If expecting him to respond. 

He just ignored her, favoring to look at the contrast of his bare feet on the metal ground

“Right, well, I want to let you know that you will be staying here now, I’m sure you already surmised that, but just to clear your situation up. We must go over the rules of this facility so you clearly understand the consequences you’ll face, should you try and escape.” 

The older woman looked at Jon for a moment, considering their collective situations, before continuing. 

“As I’m sure you are aware Officer Tonner is very skilled at tracking down people such as ourselves, there's nothing that can or will stop her once she’s given an assignment. You will listen to orders given to you by Director Bouchard but keep in mind, you cannot trust him.” She paused for a minute tapping her clipboard as if to make sure she’s hit every point of interest. 

“Oh, right, you’ll be fed momentarily and you need a change of clothes, right.” She said this last part absentmindedly and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Jon was alone again. He attempted to soak in the information he had just been given, but ultimately gave up and fell back into his near catatonic state. He hopelessly wondered if his grandmother would notice he was missing or if she even cared. He wonders if the Dog Lady ate her like she tried to do to him, Jon wonders a lot of things, but upon conclusion, the thoughts die inside his brain and leaves no room for him to wonder any further. 

___

Do the ends justify the means? Does the theft of this boy’s life justify the possibility for Elias and other avatars to live a life of fearful bliss? For them to steal the lives of all the seven billion plus humans for their own selfish purposes? Will the boy even understand? There are so many possibilities, so many questions, and for Gertrude to even be considering the ethics of this was laughable, considering how many transgressions she’s committed herself. But still….the question lingered, do the ends justify the means? 

Inevitably, Gertrude found herself in Elias’ office.

“He’s quite unremarkable.” she said walking in and placing the clipboard on his desk.

“And what makes you say that?” he shot back, grabbing the clipboard, looking at it more unimpressed than Gertrude sounded.

“He soiled his pants for starters and has been sitting in it for hours now. He refused to talk, not even crying to “go home” like most subjects do or even asking any  _ questions _ regarding his capture.” 

Elias looked up from the clipboard that contained the most basic of information about the boy that Gertrude was able to learn in the dampened room.

_ Name: Jonathan Sims _

_ Age: Eight Years old _

_ Approximate Height: 121.4 cm  _

_ Approximate Weight: 48.7 kg _

_ Encountered entities: _

_ \- Hunt:  _

_ more recently due to subject’s encounter with Officer Tonner _

-Web: 

_ manifested due to subjects encounter with Liukner book _

_ -Beholding:  _

_ Subject has always had a pension for curiosity, however because of the effects of the facility, this fear will continue to manifest until the beholding takes over as the “Dominate” fear. _

_ Family affiliations:  _

_ The subject’s mother and father died before any long time memories could be made, no siblings or closer family members such as aunts, uncles, or cousins. The subject's caregiver has at the current moment not been altered to the subject's disappearance, further updates will be made of the caregiver’s attempts at locating the subject.  _

_ Other notable points of interest: _

_ The subject seems uninterested in any points of conversation, this may be due to the sudden shock of being uprooted from his former home to our facility. Subject seems uninterested in asking any questions of interest given the information concerning their situation. Subject although they haven’t said anything out loud, seemed to be equal parts concerned and for their sudden kidnapping as well as partially relieved to be out of their emotionally unavailable home life. Unfortunately for him, he might almost prefer his former position in life, compared to the task ahead of him.  _

“Do you think he’ll cooperate?” Elias finally asked. 

“I’m not sure.” Gertrude answered.

“What makes you say that?” 

“My uncertainty of the situation.” She replied lost in her thoughts about the situation.

“You know what I think?” Elias started “I think this boy has been handed to us on a silver platter so to speak, don’t you agree?”

“No, Elias I don’t agree.” Gertrude bit her tongue in rage at what had just happened.

“ Oh,” Elias asked, a devious smile forming on his lips “ and why don’t you agree?” 

“Because we both know it’s wrong Elias, we both know your  _ real _ intentions with this boy. The others might not, but I do.” Gertrude fought back tears, she knew what he was doing to her.

“Do you? And what do you plan to do about it?” He stared her in the eyes, cold and unfeeling. 

“I plan to stop it, at any cost necessary, even if it means killing the boy.”  _ Goddamn it stop. _

“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I thought you would say.” 

Those were the last words Gertrude Robinson ever heard before the sound of gunfire permeated her senses and she fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. 

“Right.” Elias said as he pressed a button for someone to come into his office and dispose of the body. He had a subject to attend to.

———

Jonathan had lost count of how many seconds had gone by since the older woman left his “room”. She mentioned something about bringing him food (although he wasn’t hungry) and a not soiled pair of pants. He guessed it had only been a couple hours, considering he lost count at about thirty minutes. None of that really mattered when his door opened once more and The Stranger he’d met only a couple days ago walked in.

Jon immediately began to cry. The sinking feeling in his stomach had never stopped sinking and now, he was beginning to realize, if not fully, what was happening. Jon had met the strange man only a couple days ago, the man knew things about him without asking, the man was able to make Jon answer his questions, even if he didn’t want to, then the next night the Dog Lady comes into the room and tries to eat him, before bringing him  _ here _ . Wherever here was. He’d been in this room for hours, before he’s told ominously “do not trust Director Bouchard.” And now, The Stranger was in his room, in his space again. But Jon was able to fit the pieces together, and knew exactly who this was. 

Jon cried harder than he thinks he’s ever cried before. He didn’t know if he could stop, because Jon now finally knew, this was no bad dream, no nightmare. He wasn’t going to just wake up and be okay, he was here for reals and nothing or no one on this earth, including Jon himself, could change that fact.

Jon stopped crying only when Elias, who was annoyed by the weeping child in front of him said “You have to stop now, crying like that isn’t going to get you anywhere, not anymore.” 

Jon in turn recoiled at the stranger’s words.

There was a malice in The Stranger's voice, in Director Bouchard’s voice, that made Jon move away quickly, backing away from his position in the upper most corner of the room, to the lower most corner, attempting anything to put as much space between the man that had stolen him and himself. 

Elias found this ridiculous, but nonetheless put Jonathan’s new pants on the bed, and turned to the subject in question. 

“You are going to have to learn a couple of things very quickly. Survival is your key asset here, no one is going to help you except yourself. You will be fed two meals a day one in the morning and one in the evening. You have a total of fourteen tasks to accomplish all of which you will accomplish under the guidance of different “mentors', each task will take you approximately two and a half years. Your “mentors” will explain this new life to you. Tomorrow morning after breakfast you will begin with Director Fairchild. Jonathan, you have a whole day to come to terms with your circumstances, not every new subject gets that luxury. Take it as you will. Your dinner will be here momentarily. Goodnight Jonathan.” 

As he left and the door was open for a moment, Jon felt a surge of something familiar rush into him before slowly being drained again. He wondered what it was that was doing this to him, however those thoughts died fast as his meal for “night” appeared from a hole in the wall. Jon debated on whether or not he should eat. A part of him still felt sick about his circumstances and the other, was his stomach growling. Inevitably, he gave in, and his food. After which he put on the pants provided for him, leaving the soiled ones in the corner of the room. 

He laid on the bed, at first only intending to test how comfortable it was, before remembering he’d been disturbed by the Dog Lady, early in the morning not even day and had not gotten a full night's sleep. 

Jon thought about his situation, thought about how he’d never see his grandmother again. And wondered once more, for the briefest of moments if she’d cared at all. 

Before finally falling asleep and feeling the ever subtle, ever present feeling of being watched.


	3. Vertigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life here doesn't seem so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an evil brain worm and I hope you don't hate me too much for what i might do next.

The room resembles one of the playgrounds back at his old home. The only differences being, it’s inside and a lot more complex. A man led him inside android him, his training would start momentarily. Jon was never one for excessive physical activity but he didn’t have a book or some other form of entertainment around, so he walked around the massive looking wooden structures. Jon looked at all the chips and imperfections, wondering how long he’d be here alone.

It isn’t until what feels like hours later that an older kid walks in the room. He’s a bit shorter than Jon and definitely thinner, he has hair the color of honey and eyes that are such a pale blue, they could almost be white. Jon doesn’t immediately perceive him as a threat. Instead, Jon’s first thought about the kid is how as soon as he walked in, the room began to fill with a smell that reminded Jon of when the rain clouds rolled in on a hot summer’s day. 

When Jon’s back is turned, the older kid shoves Jon onto the ground. And what should have been a moment between him and the ground became a sail down a bridge hitting terminal velocity and onward. All the air left his body, but he was still breathing. All his sense dulled nearly halted but he felt his hair whipping upward, and the wind blowing past him. He could see the older kid’s eyes, they creased with the smirk on his mouth and there might have been laughter as Jon continued to near endlessly fall.

His pupils dilated and when he slowly fought his neck upward, he swore he could see the stars. And when he slowly cranes it downward, he could see the ground never getting closer. 

Simon watches as his latest subject is tested and chews on the conversation he had with Elias the night before. 

_ “You have to be joking.” he says to Elias who is currently indulging in a glass of Simon’s wine.  _

_ “I’m not.” Elias replies casually, as if this isn’t a serious matter. _

_ “How long do you think it will take?”  _

_ “It depends on how cooperative he is but he has to be alive first.” _

_ “You didn’t answer my question.” _

_ Silence from Elias. _

_ “Will it even work?”  _

_ “Possibly.” _

_ “Possibly?!” Simon asked, annoyance creeping up in his voice.  _

_ “Yes.” Elias replies, ignoring Simon’s tone. _

_ “Have you told the others?”  _

_ “Of course not, do you know what the others would do to him if they do?”  _

_ “No Elias, I don’t know.’” Simon says, definitely annoyed now. _

_ Elias sighs like he’s the annoyed one “Lukas is getting paranoid, he’s convinced that there's an emerging fifteenth fear, and he’s been putting his very limited resources to stop it. If i told him about what i had planned, he’d almost certainly kill the boy and i don't want him dead, not yet.”  _

_ “So you trust me?” Simon almost laughed. _

_ “Not at all, but I know you and I have similar goals.”  _

_ “Do we now?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ For a long and almost drawn out moment Elias and Simon started at each other. There was a lot of conversation to be had. Who was the boy in question? Why him? Why now? What was the plan? How long would it take for them to accomplish this task? But something more pressing wormed its way to the forward of Simon’s brain.  _

_ “What do you have planned for Lukas?”  _

_ Amused, Elias put his finished glass down and said “In due time.” and left the room without another word, Simon hated when Elias played these mind games.  _

So here he sat, in his mirror glass room watching his chosen protege test the limits of Elias’ latest project. He halfheartedly wondered what would happen if Michael killed the boy. Elias couldn’t be serious about his plans. Killing his assistant was a drastic step and if he weren't already claimed, Simon would think Elias had truly gone mad. Simon turned the idea over and over in his head like a stone in the ocean, the more the water hit it, the smoother it became, the more he considered Elias’ plan, the less crazy it seemed. 

“Michael,” he pressed the intercom button “That’s enough for now, i would like to speak with this subject, face to face.” 

__

Had it been days? Weeks? Months? Tears fell upward into the air suspended above Jon’s head and what could have been minutes turned into months. Had the older boy left? Had the stars disappeared and turned into the nothing above him? Where did the ground go? Jon wanted to throw up, his stomach turned and his throat burned, he wondered thoughtlessly for the third time in his life, if this is how he would die, alone, without anyone knowing or caring. 

Until suddenly, he hit the ground with not nearly the force that he had been traveling.

“Ow!” he yelled as the stream of tears that once were flying upward, fell downward onto his cheeks.

The older boy was still in the room, looking at him with a smug smirk “Get up, we have to go.” 

Jon disobeyed, still on the ground nursing his arm that by all accounts should have been shattered into pulp.

The older boy walked over to him and lifted him up by the not broken arm in a manner that would have pulled it out of its socket had it been someone stronger.

“Get up! We have to go.”

“Go where?” Jon finally asked. 

“You’ll see, just follow me.” 

The room they were standing in was wall to wall, ceiling to floor, painted in a white so pure it made it impossible to tell where the light was coming from. When the doors were closed, the room gave off the illusion that it stretched on for miles upon miles but if Jon was to be honest with himself, it didn’t matter if the doors were opened or closed, they still looked like they were a hundred miles away.

When they left the room and Jon followed the older kid to the destination he seemed so eager to get to. They ended up in a room with a pinkish man who looked much older than grandmother but despite his skeletal frame, he was more approachable.

“Hello Jonathan.” The man smiled a warm welcoming smile. 

Jon didn’t know what to say, his stomach still felt like it was dropping and honestly, he didn’t know, or care who this man was at the moment, but a punch in the arm from the older kid, quickly changed his tune.

“hello sir.” He said at a pitch just above a whisper.

“Michael!” The man scolded “ don’t be so rude to our guest, we aren’t in the training room, there’s no need for that behavior.” 

Jon pondered the situation he was in for a minute, while the pink man scolded the older boy and instructed him to not do that again in his presence. Jon didn’t know how to feel about that phrasing.

The man’s kindness confused Jon, but up to a certain point, Jon didn’t really care. Jon felt his ability to care draining out of him like water from a bath. Slowly at first but the all at once was coming quickly. 

“ Now Jonathan, take a seat! We have a few things to talk about.” The pink man smiled and pulled out a fancy oversized leather seat and gestured for Jon to take a seat.

Jon did, the feeling of endless falling not quite leaving him.

“How are you today?” The man asked, take a drink if something and set it down on the desk in front of him.

“F-fine, sir.” Jon said tepidly.

“Are you now? Well I have to be honestly, you don’t seem “fine”. Is your stomach hurting?” The man asked knowingly.

Jon nodded his head in the affirmative, all while holding back the bile rising in his throat.

“I do apologize, it is the effect of this side of the building, it can mess with people’s perception of what up and down is. But I’m sure you know all about that.” He said with a smile on his lips. 

The pink man proceeded to pull out a clear looking bag from a drawer in his desk and handed it to Jon just in time for the eight year old to throw up his half eaten breakfast. 

Michael or Mike as he liked to be called was still standing in the room, sitting on a chair not too far from the pair, simply observing the interaction. Barely interested. 

“Feeling better?” The pink man asked.

Jon shook his head negative as he released the contents of his stomach once more. And after a while of this, the bag was nearly full and despite his vomiting, Jon felt very thirsty. 

“Jonathan, I won’t keep you long, I understand I probably should have had this conversation with you before testing your limits but I wanted to see what you were able to handle. My name is Simon Fairchild, the men and women under my jurisdiction will refer to me as Director Fairchild but there’s no need for those formalities between us just yet.” 

He paused his monologue to call Mike over “Can you go and grab him some water, please.” 

Mike obeyed and left the room.

“You will be staying in my section of the facility for a little while. Here you will, hopefully learn to appreciate the vastness of the universe and if all goes well, you should be out of here in no time.” 

Jon looked at him surprised and confused.

“I thought I was staying with Director Bouchard.” He stated this like a fact rather than a question. 

“Director Bouchard has handed over care of you to me. I assure you, you’ll find that my part of this facility is much more welcoming.” 

Jon waited another moment before answering and I’m the time it took him to form his question and ask it, Mike walked in with a cup of water. He took it and as he began to drink, Simon spoke once more. 

“I’ll show you to your room where you can have a lie down and rest for a bit. I’m sure adapting to this facility after your rather sudden upheaval must have been stressful and if I’m being honest, I need you not to be stressed in order for our sessions to continue.” 

Apprehensive, Jon agreed to follow, putting the glass down. Jon, Simon and Mike all walked out of the mirrored room. The hallways there seemed to stretch on for miles with no defining markers giving away how far they’ve gone if anywhere at all. Jon bit his lip with nervousness, there was something about how large the hallway was that made him uneasy, if he had to put a name to it, he'd probably say the hallways made him feel exposed and alone. And the way Simon and Mike seemed unaffected by the hallway, made Jon feel even more uneasy. 

Eventually they’d come upon a door that was indistinguishable from the wall that surrounded it. Simon placed his hand in the center of the wall-like door and it opened to reveal a room much like his one back at home, except of course, it was a lot larger. 

The metal frame of the hallway wall gave way to the cream colored plaster drywall interior of Jonathan’s new room. In the far right corner was a proper bed with pale blue bedding and a desk no more than six inches from the foot of the bed, the rest of the room was empty and for some inexplicable reason, made Jon’s stomach drop. 

“What do you think?” Simon chirped. 

“Where do I put my clothes?” Is all Jon managed to ask.

Simon laughed and gave Jon a pat on the back.

“Clever little boy you are.” Simon walked over to the opposite wall from the bed and tapped three spots on the wall.“These drawers will open every morning before class with a new outfit for you to wear.” 

Jon simply nodded, completely dumbstruck by the whole situation.

“And what am i supposed to do until then?”

Simon shrugged and walked out, not closing the door behind him. The older kid walked out after him, mumbling something about his room not being as big.

Jon wished it wasn’t. 

____

_ Wake up. Fall asleep, fall in love, fall into the endless void. Who cares! No one here. No one there. You are pointless in life’s endless snare. Wake up. This dream is one you cannot escape.  _

_ You stand in a field, the wind blowing in your hair, look around, see the end? Of course you don’t, it does not exist. Wake up. Look up. See the sky and it’s endless wake? See the stars all those light years away? See the light that’s already died. See the sky you’ll never touch.  _

_ Wake up. Look down. At your feet at the waves and their endless beat. The surface will splash and you’ll fall, fall, fall, into a pit of watery emptiness, into a pit of your own ineptitude. _

_ Jon, wake up. _

Through his time in Simon’s “domain”, as he heard it referred to by multiple staff members, Jon never escaped the sinking in his stomach or the voice in his dream, eventually both stopped affecting him and he considered them a normal part of life. 

Jon’s days mushed together until he wasn’t able to tell a day from a week or a month from a year. He simply stuck in an unending cycle of class and training. The training he received at Simon’s request and by Mike’s hand seemed to never end. What Simon hoped to gain by having Jon suspended in that vacuum for god knows how long, Jon could only guess. He thought maybe he was like a lab rat to Simon and Director Bouchard. They would run him through these tests to see how long he could survive before giving in, before going completely insane. 

Jon thought he might a few times admittedly, but there was always that one strand of his mind that refused to break and when the falling but not quite falling stopped, this stand spooled up the others that had broken and collected his mind back together. What was causing this, continued to elude Jon. 

The second aspect of Jon’s new life was as natural to him as breathing. Despite the long hours spent there, Jon enjoyed every minute of the classes he was assigned. They were a place for him to soak up information to his heart’s content (so long as that information was directly involved with the subject at hand). Jon once tried to convince the instructor assigned to him that history was just as vast as the stars and the sea, that history was being made every day and would be made even once the humans had left the earth for the stars. 

The instructor barely acknowledged his request, simply trying to get him back on track with the lesson. As much as Jon came to enjoy the lessons about how much water per cubic meter covered the earth and how even though it is 97% water, we’ve only managed to map, explore, or even observe less than 17% of it, a part of him yearned for more, wanted to know more, it was like a hunger in his brain that asked for seconds and then thirds and so on.

The last and final joy in Jon’s life was the hallways he had once feared. Though they themselves had not changed, every day that Jon left training for his room, he found the wide space that connected his room to there to be a little more comforting. At first it was simply being less uneasy about their size and lack of complexity but over the period of time he was there, the fear built to be something like comfort and ease. He soon came to realize why Mike and Simon were able to walk them so seamlessly.

Where he first found himself wandering for hours looking for his room he now found that he could find his room in a manner of minutes after his sessions with Mike. Sometimes he’d run down the hallways laughing to himself as he got fast and faster. 

And when he’d get to his room, he’d find a book waiting for him, this would usually signal to him what the subject of the next day’s class would be. 

For all the rough start, Jon found that he quite liked this place, he liked Simon (for as little he saw him) and even liked Mike to an extent. He figured whatever it was that Simon wanted from him was well within his reach and if Jon had only known how right he was, he might have thought twice about getting comfortable. 

_____

Mike knew the routine so well, he could do it with his eyes closed. Mr. Fairchild had given him free range to exercise his powers how he saw fit. So as the routine with this one went, he shoved Jon to the ground, expecting today to be like every other day, where the younger kid would sit there as his powers as he, much to the chagrin of Simon and others, like to refer to them, took hold of Jon. Mike watched in one part surprise and two parts horror as Jon fell at normal pace,hitting the ground at normal speed. Mike’s jaw dropped open as Jon stood up with a lack of tears in his eyes. Mike watched the younger kid stalked towards him, shock evident on his own face at first but soon, something else took hold. 

Jon looked at Mike. He wasn’t sure what guided his next actions but next thing he knew, he was shoving Mike to the ground, with a ferocity that can only come from being pushed to the brink over and over again for a little over two years. What happened next though, really surprised Jon. Mike was suspended, he was one foot barely on the ground and his back no more than an inch from it, face twisted in a state of horror-shock he had before the younger kid attacked. 

“M-mike?” Jon stuttered, unsure what to do next. Until a door from the wall opened and Simon walked out a huge grin plastered across his face. 

“Congratulations Jon. You are officially an Avatar of the Vast.”


	4. Odludny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we're all alone in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi First things first, CW: for Abuse, child abuse, murder, implied attempted murder, and cursing/ verbal abuse, this chapter gets very sad and very heavy with implied referenced to depression, anxiety, and abuse.
> 
> Second: my next chapter which will be posted on the 19th on September will NOT be my last one HOWEVER i will be moving in that period of time so after that chapter, i will not update again until October 17th! thank you for coming on this journey with me and thank you for reading!

The door opened and a blinding light spilled through the crack in the wall. Two men stood in front of the young boy, casting long shadows as they towered over him, conversing with no regard for words they spoke nearly in front of him. 

“Is this him?” one of the men said, a bit unimpressed. “He’s a bit chunky wouldn’t you say?” 

“Yup, he’s the one.” The other man answered, marking something off on his clipboard.

“Are you sure?” the first man asked, reaching over to look.

“Subject 2920,” the second man looks at the makings on the door “unless they put him another containment unit.” 

The other man nods and opens the door all the way, a steep fog rolls out of the room like a wave, blinding the men on the other side of the nonexistent barrier. They were not given proper gear to handle the situation but the paycheck more than compensated for the lack of safety regulations being followed. Or at least it would have if they had known what they were really there to accomplish. 

They cough and try to gather their bearings, they are told to be careful of the fog the subject produces, as it causes hallucinations and crippling paranoia. How this is done, was not stated directly, though who would believe the truth? 

This part of the day was something of a relief to Martin. Even though he wasn't supposed to, he enjoyed the company he got when he got it and the feeling of life he got when he fed his patron was worth all the trouble in the world. 

The fog thickened around the men and began to mess with their sense of time and reality. It wasn't long before they lost track of each other, their weeping could be heard from all the other containment cells, their contents laughed as this was their favorite part of the day as well.

It was like a collective meal as the rest of the containment units opened on their own and a swirl of differently colored toxic fog rolls out of each unit and penetrates the men’s senses further. 

Martin lies on the floor, watching the two men bumping into walls and searching for an exit they were blinded to. Martin wondered how long these ones would take to die. How long they’d cry and call out for each other. He wondered if anyone would miss them. 

Martin knew  _ he _ would.

“ Tsk tsk tsk, Martin. I thought you weren’t supposed to play with your food.” an unfamiliar voice called from the void on the other side of his unit.

Martin looked up, eyes darting around the room, he never spoke a word, but the voice answered his questions regardless.

“We have a lot to discuss.” 

_________

It had been another bad night. Martin sat in the closet of his room and cried himself to sleep. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for his mother to yell at him so badly that she lost control and accidentally hit him but thankfully, she left after saying she needed to “cool down”. 

In Martin’s reality he practically lived in this closet, where his mother couldn't see him, where he couldn’t make her mad, where he was safe. 

Only when she was gone or he was at school did he exist outside the closet and both happened far and few between. 

Martin thought that this would be his life forever or a little more morbidly, he thought she’d kill him before he was able to make everything okay. However when he was seven, his life took a turn that no one could have seen coming. 

After his mum had left, Martin decided to lie on his  _ real  _ bed and let his daydreams take hold of his mind, like a blanket they comforted him. 

In his mind his dad had never left and Mum was happier, Martin drafted his image from an old photo his mum kept buried deep in the same closet he’d hide in. In his dreams, Martin resembled his mum more with her chestnut brown hair and honey brown eyes rather than his father’s sandy blonde hair and hazel green eyes. 

In his dreams, his mum never hit him, she never left him, she hardly if ever yelled at him, instead she was a carbon copy of the mum’s on television, kind, caring and patient. 

In Martin's fantasies, he wasn’t by himself all the time, he was everything his mum wanted him to be and more and there was no need to  _ correct  _ him, no need to leave him. 

Martin fell asleep with these thoughts at the forefront of his brain. The events of his life no longer pained his young heart, he was numb to it and he saw the numbness as a sign of growth. Martin thought if he tried hard enough he could make his mum love him but when he woke up only a couple hours later, he found that the possibility of that had been thrown out the window. 

_ “Martin! What is all this?” _

_ “Where the fuck are you?!”  _

_ “What the hell are you doing?”  _

_ “You ungrateful, good for nothing, son of a bitch! What are you doing?!”  _

_ “I should have left on someone’s doorstep.”  _

_ “You’re an ungrateful son.”  _

_ “You should have never been born.”  _

_ “Where are you, you little ingrate?!”  _

_ “Martin! Martin! MARTIN!”  _

Martin shot out of bed. Sweat dripping down his hair and brow. He looked around at his surroundings and sighed.

It had only been a dream.

He got out of bed so he could hide before his mum got home but before he could step out of the room, he saw what he could have sworn was a dream, what he could have sworn wasn't real. 

His mother was slumped over the heating unit, face twisted in anger, frozen in fear, eyes sunken in and lips with blood trickling out. 

Martin’s vision was hazy or was it like that when he woke up? Morning fog had somehow found its way in his room but it was still dark. 

Martin's vocal cords were frozen and unable to scream, he ran out of his room, out of the flat and into the freezing cold night, without a speck of fog in sight. 

He had never felt so alone. 

__________

Peter found The Boy only a few days after the incident. He was half starved and crying under a park bridge near central London. 

There had been a report of a fog that seeped from under the dried up lake at nearly all hours of the day and Peter would be lying to say that his interest hadn't peaked. 

Very few reports of his kind could be found without a little artificial push or after they were already dead and Peter would have been a fool not to check out this exciting phenomena of a live subject. 

He knew he had to be careful, because too much trust, too much contact might disrupt the work that had already been done, if the subject was as advanced as he suspected, he might set him back a ways. 

However, not enough trust and he’d lose the boy, either by death or by lack of compliance and Peter hated having to  _ hunt _ them down, it could taint their fear perception. 

But mostly, Peter hated working with that bloody dog. 

“Hullo.” his voice called under the bridge. 

No answer. 

“My name is Mr. Lukas.” 

No answer.

“How did you end up here?”

A stifled sob replied and it seemed to echo all around him. 

“Do you know what this fog is? Where is it coming from?” Peter asked. 

“n-no” a hollow voice rang out from all around him.

_ Oh. He was much stronger than I had initially anticipated. _

“It’s you, well, actually, it’s more like a manifestation of what you’re feeling right now. Do you know how to control it? Are you doing this on purpose?” Peter asked calmly. 

“n-no.” the hollow voice repeated, sounding like a bell in an empty town. 

“I can teach you.” Peter lied. 

“I killed my mum.” The child replied.

“You did?” Peter asked, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

The fog shifted as if to nod in reply,  _ the child was truly advanced for his age. _

“Astounding.” Peter whispered thoughtlessly. 

Peter waved his hand to wipe away the fog in front of him. The boy was directly under the bridge. 

The fog the child produced was thick and toxic, if Peter had been anyone else, he might have succumbed to its effects. 

The fog the child produced was an inky dark blue that resembled the ocean at night.

To the unknowing eye would come off as a normal morning fog and go unnoticed unless they found themselves caught in it’s trap. 

Peter did often wonder what the different colors produced meant about the “avatar” it came from. It was difficult to take a clinical approach to those who had been chosen by his patron. By their untrained nature, they were starved for attention, starved for care and even the slightest suggestion of anything but apathy, could sway the direction of their Becoming. However there were other ways to research these kinds of these, it would just take a little more time. 

Mindful of this, Peter squatted down to match the level of the boy. He was still crying, but it had lessened with each moment of their conversation. 

“You look like you need a good meal.” was all Peter said to the child before leading out of light and into the darkness. 

_ The fog is suffocating , like being under a blanket in the summer heat, you can’t breath. It burns like breathing fire in through your nose and glass out of your mouth. The light disappears like it was swallowed by an early midnight and your ears are left ringing with the silence of it all. The ringing builds like blood in your ears until the sound crescendos and you’re left deafened by it’s call.  _

_ You’re left feeling empty. _

_ You’re left feeling worthless.  _

_ You’re left feeling like you’d rather be dead than alive.  _

_ But it has always been that way and with good reason too.  _

_ What is the point of living if you are not in control of your actions? _

_ What is the meaning if you’re lost in the stew that is existence, empty and crass. _

_ You’re a puppet with their strings pulled taut, for the entertainment and hollow laugh of an uncaring God. _

_ “Feed me.” It bellows through the silence as you are pushed forward and into your task.  _

_ The room is dark and all your memories from your short life spring up in your mind like a daisy in the springtime, helping to drive you towards their goal.  _

  
  


_ You see a man. His face is blurred and blackened, like coal in a fire it smolders with the faded memory. He yells and shouts, the words come out like distorted music, it reminds you of the perverse mocking of the nursery rhymes you heard once when you were so much younger, but it doesn't scare you like it should.  _

_ A second voice calls back with tears on their face. Her voice is like broken glass attached to a body just as frail. She’s falling apart at the seams and the distorted figure seems not to care as it walks out the door and leaves the room.  _

_ Shrill and unintelligible screams fill the air of the room; you barely notice the angry people mumbling their hate fill comments , echoing all outside the empty room.  _

_ She’s alone now, in the darkened room.  _

_ Weeping her loss and wondering what’s the point of living anymore. Her cries can be heard from the floors above and their murmurs grow louder and more hate filled as they consider how to deal with it.  _

_ Until a crib appears from the nothingness.  _

_ And a wailing that is much more socially acceptable emanates from it. _

_ You look up and see your prison of wooden bars that stretch on for miles to form a rectangular trap.  _

_ It feels so large and claustrophobic all at once.  _

_ Your stomach wrenches as you see a woman approach. _

_ Your stomach twists further when you realize what they’re going to do.  _

_ The broken figure stands over you, hate plastered on their mockery of a face as they grab you by the neck.  _

_ Your stomach drops. _

_ You feel their forearms tense and tighten as they fight themselves on how to proceed.  _

_ Their conflict fills the air and you’re left to watch half suspended, helpless, starting in confusion at their indecisiveness. _

_ Ultimately they let you live. _

_ Be it due to a lack of options.  _

_ Or to the lack of will.  _

_ They let you stay alive but not to let you live.  _

_ A door opens wide and you step through.  _

_ Thick fog permeates the air and you cough as you try to breathe.  _

_ You look around at the walls that surround you and wonder what comes next as the door shuts behind you and you realize how alone you truly are.  _

_ Suddenly eyes open wide and gasping for air. _

_ You see the heap before you, frozen like your mum, face twisted in an eternal sob. _

_ Your first real claim. _

_ You shudder at the implication but feel the fullness of your first meal in such a long time.  _

_ “Congratulations Martin, you’re a natural.” a deep voice calls from the beyond. _

_ And then a door shuts tight, with you stuck on the other side.  _

_ _________________ _

**_Subject Intake report_ **

_ Name: Martin K. Blackwood _

_ Age: 7 _

_ Hight: 156.2 cm _

_ Weight: 52 kg _

_ Hair color: Sandy Blonde  _

_ Eye color: Hazel with a touch of green (the green may be due to the effects of the facility)  _

_ Patron: The Lonely (Highly advanced for his age. See page 2 for further remarks.) _

Unit number: 2920

_ Report: Report concerning Martin K. Blackwood. The subject was found in East Central London, where many reports were a flurry of complaints came in from the Central London Police department about a growing fog in the area and a barrage of missing people only a handful of these missing persons are considered to be “victims” of the subject’s fog. Many of these reports are only significant in the way that they came in a month after Martin K. Blackwood killed his mother. But considering his condition when he was found it is suspected that until his meeting with Director Lukas, that the subject did not entirely consume these people. A further investigation will be established after the resources are allocated to do so.  _

_ Katherine Blackwood: The mother was found days after her death when the neighbors first reported screaming coming from the flat though this wasn’t unusual because, as many of them suggested, Katherine Blackwood frequently scolded her son and occasionally did so while drunk (as reported by neighbors thought no evidence has been found to contrary), needless to say, the neighbors weren't surprised to hear her yelling nonsense towards her son at three in the morning on a Tuesday. The final reports concerning the subject’s mother came from the flat above them, when they realized the odor coming from their vents was Katherine Blackwood, who died while laying next to the central heating unit. No sign of foul play was detected, however there still an active Child Rescue Alert has been put out for her son and though the news has relented and his disappearance, his case file is still open.  _

_ Supplemental: Detective Hussain _ _ is the lead detective when it comes to missing children cases, she started last year and though her track record is spotty, she does manage to pull off some “miracles” every once in a while. Her comments at a press conference concerning Subject 2920 go as follows: “We are working tirelessly in finding the missing son of Katherine Blackwood, we’ve tried to contact the father who as far as public records are concerned has been absent from his life for about a six years, when he is located he will questions about the whereabouts of his son. If you have any information that leads to the discovery of the boy, a  _ _ £ _ _ 7,537 reward is being offered.”  _

_ Detective Hussain who is under contract with the Magnus Institute, has made no further moment on the missing children cases regarding its occupants. _

_ ________________ _

“ I need you to fulfill a task for me.” the voice said 

Silence. 

The voice wondered for a moment if they had picked the right subject, even going as far as looking at the number carved into the wall next to the unit. 

“I understand that might sound odd but you have to understand it’s for a greater purpose.” The voice said, 

Martin just started at the silhouette they produced, wondering why they were not succumbing to the multiple fogs effects. 

The silhouette sighed. 

“This isn’t a task that is being put upon by your patron. I believe you should know this before you decide.” It warned him.

_ “ _ Peter will be mad if I leave.” Martin states, his voice hollow but not completely devoid of care. 

“He’s not your patron. Are you positive he’ll even notice your absence?” the voice asks. 

Martin considered this for a moment, on one hand, he technically wasn’t supposed to care about human or less-than-human contact or interaction. He shouldn't care what Peter would think but he does. 

On the other hand, Peter had never checked up on him since throwing him in here a little over a year ago. So maybe the voice had a point. 

“I’m not sure.” Martin whispered, the uncertainty was evident in his voice. 

This is exactly what the voice wanted. 

“Exactly. Plus, you might have a little fun for once, not being so alone anymore.” 

“How will I be fed?” worry creeping into Martin’s voice “P-peter said i have to use my abilities in order to live.” 

The unfamiliar voice begins to laugh, like they've heard the funniest joke ever told. “Oh Martin. I promise, you’ll be just fine.” 

Martin nods,the fog shifts in response, he is still unsure of his current situation

“Why me?” He asks timidly.

“So many questions, one would almost think you were claimed by the Beholding.” the woman says, annoyance evident in her voice. 

“sorry…” Martin replies, casting his eyes back to the ground and folding his hands in front of him, not fully understanding the reply but recognizing the tone as annoyance mixed with frustration. 

The stranger waves their hand, dismissing the fog that covered her face. She steps into the room, the two men dead in her place. She’s older looking with worry lines that cut deeper in more places than others. She looks like glass under pressure, ready to crack and shatter at a moment's notice.

“The task I have for you will ensure that you find not being lonely is a much better lifestyle.” she suggests once more to the boy. 

“Peter told me I have to be here in order to live.” Martin says, his voice laced thick with anxiety 

“Does being alive even matter to you?” the woman asked, slightly annoyed by his repeated answer. 

Martin had never thought of it like that before. And only acknowledges her question with a barely noticeable nod of his head. 

The old woman sighs, clearly frustrated with his passiveness but makes her intentions known regardless.

“How do you feel about making a friend?” Gertrude smiles as her plan is set into motion. 

____

**_One Year Later_ **

Martin listened as the gunshots rang out on the other side of the door, nearly deafening him.

In her final moments Gertrude Robinson had never felt so alone and Martin wishes he didn’t have to live with the cursed knowledge of her death. 

Martin really wishes he could have been there to say one last goodbye but figures, it was probably for the best that he wasn’t. Someone had to be around to stop the end of the world and if it wasn’t Gertrude, then it might just have to be him. 

Now filled now with the anxiety and determination of what was going to happen next, Martin prepared himself for his journey ahead. 

He ran to his and Gertrude’s shared quarters, being sure to hide all evidence of his existence and taking every bit of information he deemed would be helpful to him. Maybe they should have prepared better in case Elias caught on to her plan, of all people Gertrude should have known what was going to happen next...

Regardless he knew he couldn’t fail. If not for himself than for Gertrude. 

After collecting his things, Martin ran to the spot that she showed him when she first rescued him from his unit, the place he could hide most effectively from Elias and Peter. 

Martin however never made it to the bunker hidden in the deepest parts of the facility, when he realized that he was half way there he broke into a panicked sprint as the sensation of being watched grew and grew until inevitably he was caught by Director Bouchard.

“Hello, Martin.” Elias said as he grabbed the child by the arm and pulled him back, yanking it hard and from it’s socket. 

Martin let out a yelp that rang out through the damp wooden walls of Elias’ “domain”.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, already knowing the answer. 

“T-t-to the pl-ace sh-e sho-wed me to hide fr-om you.” Martin stuttered unwillingly through his broken sobs. 

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Elias chided the child “ why would you try to do that?” he asked with an amused smile working its way on his lips.

“Beca-use sh-e told me a-a-ll abou-t wh-at you a-are p-p-plan-ning to do! ” Martin yelled, his arm still in searing pain.

“Oh, did she?” Elias’ eyes began to glow a bright and sickly green “ and what exactly is that?” 

Martin fought the collusion of Elias’ words, he wished he could rip out his vocal cords and put his arm back in place, but despite his unwillingness to do so and cries of pain he answered the evil man.

“T-to end the world!” Martin yelled “you’re g-going to u-use tha-at boy that yo-u stole!” 

This time Elias laughed.  _ Oh Gertrude despite her age she really was just as naive as this child in front of him.  _

Elias decided to drag the child by his damaged arm rather than continue this one-sided conversation. He knew he’d get better results if the child was less injured but really, this was just fun for him and he hated to pass up an opportunity to be amused.

When Gertrude had died it was like the flood gates had opened, her secrets and fears trickled out her mind like water from a broken dam and Elias was filled to the brim with every ounce of her betrayal. Though he couldn’t say he was surprised, because of all his  _ employees  _ Gertrude had been the most troublesome. Elias’ only surprise is that he didn’t kill her sooner.

“I won’t continue to play this game with you, “ Elias started” I know what Gertrude wanted you to do, but you’re mine now and I think a revision in plans is in order.”

Martin gulped down his sobs, the pain from his arm was still searing and all he could do was nod absentmindedly as Elias told him what he would be doing.

“You’re going to help me infiltrate the domain of Director Lukas as you’re most familiar with it, my protege will be working with Director Faichild for the time being and I want everything ready for his arrival in the Lonely Containment Units.” 

Martin nodded, staring at the floor, eyes unfocused.

“I will arrange for him to end up in your old unit, it won’t be hard honestly,” Elias prattled on “ I’ll have it worked out here in the next few hours and you’ll be escorted back to the units, understand?” 

Martin nodded.

“I know you’re used to being a failure but this task that I am giving you, isn’t one you can afford to fail.” Elias said, his implication being very clear.

“Yes, sir.” is all Martin whispered to the ground,

Satisfied with his answer, Elias nods.

Hours later Elias leads him back to his containment unit to wait for Jonathan Sims to arrive. 


	5. Hullo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, um, right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! Okay! I hope you enjoy this chapter because this is where the real fun begins! I will afk until the 17th of October so keep an eye out! :D

Jon and Simon sat in the mirrored room, just above the training arena. For the both of them, today was a day to be celebrated, Jon had officially completed his training as an “Avatar of the Vast” and was ready to move on and complete the rest of his training. 

Simon couldn't help but admit that he was proud of Jon and felt that a special dinner was in order before his departure. Jon had learned so much in the months following the first successful use of his abilities. Most of his education after this point focused on things Jon didn't know existed or were even possible.

Some of the things Simon told Jon, though they were new, made sense, and felt right fitting like a puzzle piece in the context of his brain. 

_ Simon would tell Jon. “ The Vast” as it’s known, is the fear is essentially the fear of insignificance, wide open spaces, of heights and losing yourself.”  _

_ And Jon would ask “So are there other names? For the other fears?”  _

And Simon’s response would normally be a chuckle or sigh of annoyance but it no matter what emotion Simon felt towards Jon on a given day, he felt their bond strengthen with every conversation. 

_ “What other fears?” Simon tried to joke “is soul crushing insignificance not enough for you?”  _

_ Jon just rolled his eyes “I just assumed-“  _

_ “Ahh and therein lies the problem, you assumed.”  _

_ “Right, but-“  _

_ “Yes, Jonathan, there are other names for the other fears that reside in human and in-human beings “  _

_ “Non human?”  _

_ “Yes,” Simon considered his next words, “ animals have fears too.”  _

Simon also taught him about all the other “avatars” and their designated patrons and mostly, where they came from and how most of them could manifest. He fed Jon only a drip of Elias’ plan, informing him of his upcoming trials and how Becoming of the Vast was only a drop in the fountain that was ahead of him.

“ I can’t protect you from how all the other  _ leaders  _ of the various avatars are going to train you, you might not come out of it the same person, you may not even survive it.” Simon warned Jon.

Simon thought about warning him in regards to Annebell and Jude but decided to wait and see what path he’d carve out for himself. 

Over the last couple of years, Simon and Jon had built a relationship that was akin to a father and his son. Simon, despite being a zealous follower of his patron, found that he quite enjoyed Jon’s company and was a little less than thrilled to see him leave so soon and even less thrilled to know that he wouldn't be able to control how he manifested his other “powers”. 

“I know, but if this is really what i have to do…” Jon trailed off, remembering the first night he spent in the facility, though it was only two years, it felt like it was so much longer than it really was. And his chest swelled with the unfamiliar feeling of pride at his accomplishments for the first time since arriving. 

Simon internally cringed at Jon’s words worried about the headspace he was going to go into his task with but marveling at how so much hardship had shaped the child in front of him. He worried if Jon would make it out alive. Worried if he'd be the same person. But what Simon really worried about, above all else, is if he’d be willing to do what  _ had  _ to be done, when the time came. Simon’s selfish need for this work, trumped all other concerns about the child’s wellbeing. 

“I promise you Jonathan, you’ll do just fine.” 

_____

Jon sits at a bench in the park. 

His grandmother always told him to wait for her here when she would go grocery shopping or window shopping or shopping of any sort that didn't directly involve himself. She normally takes a long time and Jon isn't surprised to have to wait, what feels like hours for her to return. 

If he had a book on him, the time would pass without a problem and he’d be able to get lost in it and when his grandmother returned, she’d rip him out his story, he’d groan with annoyance and she’d make a halfhearted threat to beat the attitude out of him before they went home.

Jon didn’t have a book though. So time was moving at a snail's pace and he began to wonder if it was even moving at all. He watched as a blur of people walked by and his curious mind moved to wonder about their lives. 

Until something begins to happen.

Jon saw a woman walk past him and wondered what her age was, guessing by her features, she might have been at least in her mid 20s. 

She looks hopeful, beautiful and oh so familiar, like a picture on a wall and a child with the same nose and face with a graduation cap, where was she from? 

She wandered around the park for a while, talking to herself unintelligibly, before walking past him, mumbling something about “being late…” worry etching her features.

Time passes again before Jon realizes something, concerning.

He sees the woman again and has to think about it before he realizes, something about her is...different. 

It must just be his mind playing games on him. 

She was definitely pregnant before.

She was definitely not  _ alone _ before.

Jon watches, enthralled by the lives passing in before him.

The happy couple, soon to be three. Smile and laugh, they frown and argue but they're never without each other, even when they were. 

Something in Jon’s heart breaks. He wonders to himself if that is the way to be. In pairs like the growing couple before him...or alone. 

Jon nearly smacks himself in the face. He’s not even 13 yet. But even with that rationalization he can’t ignore the growing pit in his stomach and the inky feeling in his chest. He can’t ignore the feelings from his own short life bubbling to the surface and eating him up. 

Jon can’t help but notice that their baby is beautiful.

With an even shade of brown skin and curl of glossy black hair complemented by his amber brown eyes. 

Jon gasped, at how familiar the baby looked. 

His concentration is broken by a wail that is certainly not from the baby. Lucky or not for Jon, this happens before the tears really begin to well up.

Jon’s neck nearly snaps with the force that he whirls his head around to have his eyes greeted by the unmistakable image of a bloody car accident. A body half hanging out the window as the paramedics fruitless search for any sign of life. 

Jon’s heart quivers. 

A cacophony of crying and sniffling fills his senses. The creaking sound of anxious standing and sitting flood his brain, he can’t keep a straight thought, his heart is racing and he is worried, oh so worried about the dead man in the car. 

His face is wet with tears and nose dripping with sadness and the smell of the old church his grandmother takes him to on Sunday’s fill his nostrils. 

Then suddenly, before him lay two coffins with barely any mourners. 

Jon’s heart shutters and his stomach turns again. The loneliness he feels fills him to the brim until he’s positive he’ll burst into tears, unaware of the river already at his feet. 

Jon is sat on a park bench.

He waits here for his grandmother. 

She likes to go to the store for knick knacks or groceries, she goes often because it’s an excuse to get away from her grandson. 

The grandson who was left by her own child. 

Who lived when death surrounded him. 

The grandson who should have died but instead, is sat on a park bench. 

Waiting for her return. 

Jon feels like there’s a hole in his chest, passing the blood though and keeping alive, just to feel the pain of this moment. His nails dig into the bench. He loses one or two of his nails in the process of pulling up the wood. The pain hurts, of course it does but it also fills a void in him that has been empty since the day he was born. If Jon had ever hated himself, he knew for sure that he did in this moment. It was like a fire in his belly that passed through the void and to his brain, catching all the things in between.

His nails bled, his throat burned, his head ached and his chest was now a deep pit of his dread and hate and he wondered how long he’d be here, waiting for someone who would never come, waiting for someone who never cared. Jon cried because this was his life now, he was only a child, he knew that, but this was his life now. 

He was an experiment for these people, even Simon, who pretended to care for him. He was a pawn for Director Bouchard, he’d almost killed the closest thing to a friend he had, as far as Jon was concerned, he was nothing to no one, not even himself. 

_____

Martin wakes from his self induced slumber, a barrage of memories pass his mind’s eye and he sees the world before him as it used to be. 

_ A beautiful young couple with a baby boy.  _

_ A missing father and a car crash. _

_ A police report and worried wife.  _

_ A funeral with his face on the poster and barely any people.  _

_ A sickly mother, heart broken in a million pieces and child crying in her arms, one last time.  _

_ A hospital bed and a flatlined monitor. _

_ Another funeral. _

_ A baby, barely two. _

_ Then an old woman, resentment staining her heart.  _

_ A child, lost and ignored.  _

_ A child, with dark brown, almost black hair and honey brown eyes and an insatiable thirst for knowledge. _

Martin saw a book, _ it was labeled “Mr. Spiders Guest.” It looked like any old kids book but it had an unmistakable stamp on its back cover. _

_ The child began to read it. And before he knew it, he was entranced in a hypnotized and on a stage that he was an unwilling participant. A puppet in a book he loathed.  _

_ Then, like magic or fate, he wasn't and another took his place.  _

_ The bully’s participation, much more willing than the child’s but The Web, begrudgingly took its prey.  _

_ The child was discovered by a man that was followed by a dark cloud and harrowing eyes.  _

_ He was taken by a Dog with platinum hair and icy blue eyes. _

_ The boy's honey brown eyes began to turn into a beautiful emerald green. _

_ He was becoming less than human and he doesn't even know it yet.  _

Martin didn't fully realize who this was and his eyes dimmed into an inky black as a thick blue fog appeared around them.

It was almost too late before he realized that  _ this  _ was Jonathan Sims.

Almost too late. 

He roused from his feeding and considered his situation. 

Was his life worth living anymore? Gerturde had never promised to get him out of here. Even if he was out, who would he go to? He killed his mum and his father has been gone for so long now...did anyone even care or know he was missing? Was his life worth living when he ceased to exist to begin with? 

His thoughts swirl around him and he was almost too late to stop them. 

Almost.

But something switches in his mind and he begins to shake Jonathan, trying to rouse him from his near death experience. 

  
  


______

_ “Jonathan!”  _

A voice calls him from beyond echoing deep in his ears attempting to drag him from his state of mind. 

“ _ Jonathan! Wake up!”  _

He wanted to die, he wanted to stay asleep. 

_ “Jonathan!”  _

His grandmother would have hit him by now, let her be angry. 

“ _ Please Jonathan, wake up!”  _

She’d never say “please”. 

_ “goddamnit!”  _

His heart pounds with a sudden realization. 

_ “J-Jon! Wake up!”  _

Jon’s eyes open and it’s not his grandmother’s eyes that are staring back at him. 

“Oh thank god.” Martin breathes, obvious relife in his voice. 

Jon blinks and turns his head to look around the room, he doesn't remember ever coming here. 

“Where am i?” Jon asks, his voice devoid of emotion. 

“I beg your pardon?” Martin replies, confused by the nature of the question.

“I said-”

“I know what you said,” Martin cuts him off “ What I am wondering is how you don’t already know.” 

Jon stares at him for a long while before sitting up and taking in his surroundings some more, wondering if maybe just needs to wake up. 

They’re in a room with dark grey metal walls, the only light comes from the cracks in the doors and the observation window attached to the door. The floor beneath them is cold concrete, it seems to radiate frigid air and Jon can’t help but shiver when he notices, though he doesn’t feel cold. 

Jon looks at the boy in front of him and asks again 

“Where am i?” 

And Martin, for his part, wastes no more time telling Jon exactly where they are. 

“We’re in The Lonely Containment Units.” 

  
“How did i get here?” Jon asks and an even more pressing question wriggles it’s way out his mouth “how did you get here with me?” 

“You mean you don’t remember?” Martin confirmed, a plan coming to mind. 

Jon shook his head, his eyes narrowed in suspicion of the boy in front of him.

“What did happen?” Jon asked again, hesitation saturated his voice.

Martin bit the inside of his cheek. He wondered if he should tell him the truth, wondered if it would do any good at this point. Martin knew how manipulative Simon could be, especially when he had so much to gain from lying. Martin sat on the idea of telling Jonathan, Jon, everything. 

“Do you go by Jonathan or Jon?” Martin countered instead.

Jon bliked as annoyance filled his features. 

“Jonathan to Simon and my grandmother but to my...uh friends, Jon. ” he answered, “though i'm not sure what my name has to do with the question I just asked.” 

Martin shrugged and extended his hand to help Jon up.

Jon ignored it, opting to verify his surroundings and staying on the ground, before speaking again.

“Well?”

“Oh, um, right. My name is Martin Blackwood.” 


	6. Dinner Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How did he know that? How did I know that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD OOPS, HI I AM BACK! ON A NEW TIME ZONE A TIRED AS HECK FROM MOVING! NOT COUNTING TODAY, MY UPLOAD SCHDEUEL WILL REMAIN CONSISTANT EXCEPT NOW INSTEAD OF POSTING AT 3PM Pacific Time Zone I Will now be uploading on Mountain Daylight Time!!! 
> 
> Cw: for some slight manipulation, referencing to um maybe cannibalisms (because you know how it goes) and very bad miscommunication plus lying out right, yay.

“How um, did you know my name?” Jon asked only moments after learning Martin’s name. 

“You almost died,” Martin said ignoring Jon’s question “and it wouldn’t have been...you know, pleasant.” 

“What are you talking about.” Jon said plainly, not bothering to phrase it as a question. 

Martin’s eyes filled with concern. 

“You know that “dream” you thought you were having? Well it wasn’t a dream. It was like, your life flashing before you. You could have died.” 

“My life?” Jon asked. 

“Yes.” Martin said. 

“I don’t remember even half of those events.” 

“It’s what this place does to you, it twists your mind up and makes you feel and see only your loneliness memories, even if they’re not fully yours.” 

Jon looked around at the concrete walls that surrounded them, when Jon had first seen them, he attributed their color in scale to that of a French Revolution Prison that he’d read about before coming here. But now, when he looked up and the nearly never ending expanse of the grey walls, he thought maybe it isn’t  _ so _ bad here.

  
  


“These are the Lonely Containment Units, aren’t they?” Jon asked.

“Um...yeah…how did you know that?” 

“Lucky guess.” Jon said, not knowing if that was really the reason. 

“Really?” 

Jon gave Martin a look of frustration “yes, really. And since we’re on the topic, I am  _ curious,  _ why are there two of us in here? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of “Lonely”?” 

Martin bit his lip, and debated what lie would be the less damaging to building their trust. 

“M-might have been a bit of a mix up, the food here isn't particularly smart.” 

“Food?” Jon asked

“Uh...yeah, the people in the lab coats, they’re like a food source, they um, they’re people that I assume Peter picks out and uh...well they come here and...you know…”

“I suppose I do.” Jon said, hesitantly. 

Jon understood very well that being at the behest of a fear entity meant that you had to feed them every once in a while and that food source (depending mostly on the entity you served) meant killing a few humans but even then, the callous nature that Martin referred to them as  _ food _ . Jon would note to ask Simon when he found a way out of here  _ where _ they obtained their “food” from. 

“Sorry.” Martin finally said, breaking Jon out of his thoughts. 

“It’s fine.” 

Martin bit his lip again, maybe he should try and keep the fear entity talk to a minimum for now.

“Do you like poetry?” 

“Excuse me?” 

———

_ The Walls _

_ They confine and surround  _

_ We build them up _

_ With objects made to crumble  _

_ Their death will be a mighty tumble _

_ They close me all around  _

_ They hug me tight  _

_ With all their might  _

_ The Walls  _

_ Concrete waterfalls  _

_ Their silence are weakening calls  _

_ And all are left within their grasp  _

_ Now they slam shut  _

_ And I’m left, sitting, waiting, like an unloved mutt _

_ ——— _

Martin Blackwood.

By all accounts, Jon found him the most annoying person he’d ever met. Sure, he was nice and if he hadn’t been living Simon for the past couple years  _ nice  _ would have been a pleasant thing at least, but Martin wasn’t just nice, he was overbearingly nice. 

He’d constantly make sure Jon wasn’t succumbing to the effects of the units by engaging him in conversation about whatever it is that struck his fancy at the time, be it his favorite tea, his favorite dead poets or even going as far as to ask Jon about his life prior to his arrival at the facility. Martin divulged little himself about that matter and it didn’t occur to Jon as suspicious, mostly because he didn’t care. 

But there was something about him that made Jon shiver, made his skin crawl and made the pit in his stomach feel deeper. Martin was nice, very nice, annoyingly nice, but there Jon could tell he was hiding something, keeping a secret or two from him and Jon couldn’t help himself but to wonder what exactly it was. 

  
  


“I know a place we can hide!” Martin said frantically almost excitedly one day, pulling away Jon from his thoughts. 

“Hide? Hide from what.” Jon asked, definitely confused about this new topic. 

“You have got to be joking.” Martin said, looking around at the concrete walls that surrounded them.

“You want to hide from the inescapable room?” Jon asked sarcastically.

Martin groaned. 

Maybe Martin found me a little annoying too, Jon thought. 

“Hide from  _ them _ , from Director Bouchard, from Peter, from Simon and the rest of them!” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Fine, I’d prefer to understand why you’re asking me to hide with someone I hardly know, especially from Simon, someone I do know.” 

“Because staying here isn’t going to do you any good! And if Simon wasn’t already claimed by the vast, he’d be serving under Annabelle!” Martin almost yelled at Jon, his frustration clearly beginning to bubble over.

“Annabelle.” Jon said, the confusion in his voice overruling the confidence his face portrayed. 

“Are you trying to pull one over on me?” Martin asked

“Perhaps.” 

Martin groaned again and slowly his skin became more….translucent. Like he was phasing out of reality. Had he been nothing more than a figment of Jon’s imagination? Like the angle on his shoulder had he been simply arguing with himself over the logic of his situation?

But then, if he was talking with himself, how did his subconscious know about the whoever Annabelle is and that hidden room he mentioned.

Maybe that’s what Martin was hiding, maybe he wasn’t real maybe he was a ghost? Surly a ghost wouldn’t be the most unbelievable thing he’s seen since he got here, but that would be ridiculous….

“Are you real?” Jon asked, interrupting his own thoughts. 

“I beg your pardon?” Martin retorted. 

“You’re fading out, like a ghost.” Jon pointed to Martin who was if Jon had to guess had only about half of his physical form left. 

Instead of answering, Martin blushed, although Jon couldn’t tell for sure because well over half his face was already fading out. 

“I’m not a ghost!” Martin said, more embarrassed than upset.

“Then what’s going on?” Jon asked, a part of his soul flickering back to life.

Martin chose his next words carefully. 

“I won’t tell you, unless you agree to come with me.” 

“Fine, if you’re not going to tell me, then you’re a ghost and I really don’t need to listen to anything you’re saying.” 

“You know, you can be so infuriating sometimes!” Martin said as he faded out (as far as Jon was awhere) of existence. 

“I know.” Jon laughed to himself, deciding maybe he’d try passing the time in his cell any other way that didn’t involve almost dying. 

——-

After a few days of not seeing him, Jon deduced that Martin probably wasn’t a ghost. He knew way too much that Jon definitely didn’t know but Jon also knew things that he most definitely shouldn’t have been able to. Also “ghost” as it were, is definitely something Simon would have told him about. But the question in Jon’s mind still lingered, who or what exactly was Martin Blackwood? 

“I know you’re still here.” Jon lied to the walls around him.

Silence. 

“I know you’re not a ghost, but your little disappearing act is getting kind of old.” 

No reply. 

“But I still don’t know exactly what you are.” 

“I know you’re bloody annoying though.” Jon mumbled under his breath. 

“I am not!” A reply came from the far corner of his unit. 

“Gotcha!” Jon smirked. 

Martin’s half faded visage appeared in the corner that the voice came from earlier, he looked annoyed and maybe upset? 

“Have you come to your senses yet?” Martin asked.

“I’m sure I had them all along.” Jon remarked 

Martin sighed. 

“So I’ll take that as a no.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, I’ll go with you to this “secret hideout”,” Jon exaggerated his voice a little “ after you answer a couple of my questions.” 

“Questions?!” 

“Yes.” 

Martin bit his lip, he was going to need a notebook to memorize all the lies he was going to be suddenly telling. 

“Fine, “ Martin muttered “get on with it.” 

“Right, okay, so this unit, it’s yours, isn’t it, you’re an avatar of the lonely?” 

“That’s not really a question.” Martin remarked 

It was Jon’s turn to be annoyed.

“Fine, are you an avatar of the Lonely?” 

“Yes and no.” Martin answered truthfully.

“Care to elaborate?” 

“Not particularly.” 

“Fine,” Jon sighed, “ why are you in here?” 

“Because the fo- because the people in the Lab Coats messed up or because they’re short on Containment Units.” 

“Fine, don’t tell them that then.” 

“What!” Martin said, feeling that his ruse had been seen through. 

“Nothing.” Jon sighed again. 

“So?” Martin asked.

“How do you even plan to get us out of here?” Jon asked.

“Well…” Martin started, “you might not like it.” 

Jon raised an eyebrow. 

“You need to learn to um, well you’re going to have to uh..” 

“Spit it out!” Jon said, his nerves on fire.

“You’re going to have to, well...you’re going to have to  _ feed  _ The Lonely, my plan won’t work otherwise.” 

“Feed.” Jon repeated back to him. 

“Yes.” Martin nodded. 

“On one of the lab coat people?” 

“Well, yes but there will be more than just one of them.” 

“Right, um and how am I going to do that?” Jon asked. 

“Well, you remember those memories that were and weren’t yours?”

Jon nodded.

“You’re going to have to turn those into a uh toxic fog of sorts but you can’t just attack the Lab Coats…” 

“What do you mean?” 

“ there are um other units, with other “avatars”” 

Jon nodded, still not getting it.

“Jon, we’re going to have you know…” 

“Kill them?” Jon finished. 

“Yes.” Martin replied. 

“How do I make the memories into the fog?” Jon asked. 

“It’s not as complicated as it seems, but it won’t be pleasant.” 

“I didn't think it would be.” 

“Sorry.” Martin replied. 

“Don’t be, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.” 

———

Dinner, as Jon begrudgingly came to know it, obviously didn’t happen often. Jon could only guess (by ways he wasn’t completely certain of) that Peter Lukas would see how far he could push the collection of Lonely Avatars to starvation before allowing them to “feed” again. 

Regardless, Jon knew two things for sure, one he was going to have to come up with a better analogy than “dinner” and “food” if he was going to associate with the other entities. And two, Martin wasn’t looking so hot, his disappearing act had ended almost a week ago and now he looked like hell and was noticeably less social. 

Although Jon had to admit to himself, he was curious about the effects of this “starvation” and he wasn’t in any particular rush to leave, he was worried Martin wouldn’t make it long and hated that he didn’t know for sure. 

Thankfully, it was only a few more days before the dinner bell rang.

The doors opened but not completely, Jon thought to push it open but decided against it. Martin said something to him, but it sounded like a whisper, Jon wondered if being out of his containment unit and away from his “food” source was going to be healthy for either of them.

“Martin you need to speak up I can’t hear you!” Jon said. 

Martin put his finger over his lip in the universal gesture of “shut up”. He then put his hands together in a mock sleeping motion and Jon got the memo. 

Jon laid down and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep or dead, whatever one was more convincing. 

Martin had not exactly told him  _ how  _ he was supposed to “summon his fog” but Jon figured he’d figure it out with help of stress and pressure. 

Sometimes, Jon’s intelligence didn't exte to common sense. 

A person walked in, their heavy boots thudding against the floor. Jon could hear the  _ thump, thump, thumping  _ of the boots, as they walked closer and closer to his door. 

And then the voices came.

“This the one?” A soft voice asked.

“Yep, there’s two of them in there, think we oughta tell the boss?” another voice answered, sounding noticeably rougher. 

“Why? So we can clear out another cell and reprocess one of them?” the soft voice asked

The second voice sighed. 

“Don’t worry,” the soft voice whispered “we only need one of them.” 

A moment of silence followed for what, Jon could only assume meant that the other person had replied with a shrug. 

When the door opened fully, Jon could hear them better and was able to discern the voices from one another.

“Should we be wearing masks?” The deeper voice asked.

“You know, you ask a lot of questions for someone who’s getting paid so well.” 

The deeper voice sighed. 

“Anyway, “ the softer voice replied “this one is a dud, he can’t do anything, we’re extracting him for uh termination.” 

“Ah.” 

A bolt of fear struck through Jon, “termination?” he said out loud, before quickly covering his mouth. 

The people ignored him and headed for the corner of the room where Martin was….

“MARTIN!” Jon shot up, forgetting about what he was told. 

“Martin!” He yelled and he ran to the people, as they hauled Martin away. 

“Get up! Martin wake up!” He yelled, as his body phased through the people taking away his friend. 

“Wake up!”

He yelled, as he realized he was slowing fading out, translucent, almost like a ghost. 


	7. Unbeknownst to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like deja vu but backwards.

For some reason. For some unknown reason, Jon felt like every moment was moving outside of time, every move him and the Lab Coats made, was slowed. His screams lowered an octave and even though he was bursting with adrenaline, his body moved at a sluggish pace.

For some reason, Jon could briefly see something that wasn’t his or maybe it was just not quite his. Jon could see something deep in Martin’s face. He could see another person completely and for a moment, or maybe longer, Jon forgot himself. Imagining or something like that he was him but also not. 

In another time. 

In another place. 

In another life. 

Jon’s heart surges and the thought of losing Martin struck him with a fear he didn’t know he or anyone could possess. 

Tears streamed down Jon’s face and in that moment, when time didn’t seem to be quite there and his thoughts didn’t seem to be his own, Jon forgot that his biggest concern was getting out of there. Forgot his biggest fear in that time was trusting Martin. Forgot that he wasn’t fully human anymore. 

And a moment, if spent a certain way, can last a lifetime. 

“MARTIN WAKE UP!” Jon yelled his throat raw, before falling to the floor. 

The door shut and Martin was gone. 

Jon isn't quite sure how long he was lying on the floor again, the hole in his chest growing with each passing little moment. His body, fading, almost glitching out of reality.

_ What a failure, he thought. _

_ Pathetic, he spat at himself. _

_ You’re worthless, he said to himself. _

You’re going to be in here for the rest of your life,

“and I deserve it.” he said the last part out loud.

Jon wondered if he could die. And it was this thought that brought him back to one of his lessons with Simon, that seemed so long ago now. 

_ “Immortal! Like I’ll live forever?!”  _

_ “Well, not “forever”, my apologies for the improper phrasing. What I mean is, you’ll live well beyond the average human lifespan, especially once you uh, get into the swing of fully serving our patron.”  _

_ “Serving them how?”  _

_ Simon laughed a bit, always with the questions, if Elias wasn’t so stiff, he might come to actually appreciate the child’s company.  _

_ “You remember what you did to Michael a couple days ago?”  _

_ Jon nodded slowly, internally cringing at the residual fear he had felt in those moments between him “freezing” Mike and Simon walking him through how to “unfreeze” him. _

_ “Of course you do,” Simon said, his smile of pride growing a bit wider “ well it’s like that but instead of releasing Michale, you would have killed him.” _

_ “Killed him.” Jon said trying to understand the implications of what Simon had just told him.  _

_ “Yes, my boy. This in turn would have fed our patron. Sort of like a Tit for Tat kind of deal.”  _

_ “Tit for Tat…” Jon trailed off.  _

_ “Yes, um, but this isn't the only way you could accomplish such a feat, you could take a more um,” Simon paused, wanting to find the proper phrasing without being callous to Jon’s feelings “a more uh physical approach.”  _

_ “Physical approach?” Jon repeated back, he was beginning to feel like a parrot.  _

_ Simon nodded. _

_ “We don’t have to discuss that at this very moment, let’s get back to the lesson at hand.”  _

Now that Jon was putting a little more thought into it, maybe he should have asked how many years each life equaled to the adage of his own. Maybe then he’d be able to determine how long he’d be able to tell how long he’d be spending inside this cell.

But all it takes is a moment, a spark to light the fire, a drop in the glass to overflow before suddenly the gears begin to shift again and everything falls into place.

Jon didn’t cry because he didn’t have the energy to anymore, it all happened slowly and all at once. 

Jon mumbled Martin’s name once more, mourning his death, the death of someone he barely knew yet something told him he knew him so well. 

His mouth opened and shut, he closed his eyes and closed his fists and for one final moment he thought, maybe he shouldn’t do this, before he let the emptiness consume him.

————

_ It was difficult to pull off.  _

_ Martin has to admit that for all he hates the web and its influence, it might just run thinly in his veins. Unfortunately Fear Entity isn’t something you can just DNA test for, so Lonely it is then. _

_ He lingered in his mental limbo, picking apart the moments prior to his departure until suddenly, the lights grew brighter and Martin wondered what was happening. He knew leaving was a roll of the dice, helping Jon reach his potential just enough to escape or kill him.  _

_ And Martin desperately hoped for the former. _

_ But there was also a flash of something, a spark in the dark, right before the door shut and Martin was struggling to get it out of his brain.  _

_ And as suddenly as the feeling came, the feeling left. Martin stared off into a voice and smiled, Jon was finding his way out. _

_ A fog as light as clouds and a dark and night seeped from under his old unit. It whispered and bellowed its sorrow into the other units, into their ears, into their dream, and into the very building itself. Martin could feel the rumble from his safe space and watched in awe at the destruction Jon was causing.  _

_ The food came out first, they opened Jon’s unit prepared to shut him down, to kill him. But before they could get any closer, even the ones with the mask were taken down by him. Jon either out of spite or out of ignorance or mixture of both made them suffer a death not fit for any human or less-than-human, even the food. _

_ His once emerald green eyes glowed a deep blue, almost black, like the ocean at night he tore them apart like waves into a vessel.  _

_ Tears stained his dirty cheeks and the doors to other cells opened.  _

_ Martin gulped in fear, if he stayed he’d be forced to feel and live the pain Jon was about to inflict without the death, and Martin wasn’t sure if there was an escape form the vessel afterwards.  _

_ Martin panicked as he heard the horse broken screams of the other units' occupants as they pleaded and begged and struggled to be free of Jon’s rampage, Martin wracked his brain, adrenaline filled his bloodstream and he was in a moment of shock and panic. An animal trapped except he wasn’t truly trapped. _

_ Ultimately he decided to stay.  _

_ When the fog reached his vessel, the fog stopped for a moment, as if Jon recognized him in the façade he’d been using, it lingered just at the edge of the unit, his vessel’s consciousness creeping up in a last bid for control before being slaughtered like the rest.  _

_ Every bone broken, every tendon torn, evey vessel popped and every limb ripped, Martin screamed and cried and begged like it was his own and when his nearly dead vessel lay on the ground, Jon walked in, with fear in his eyes.  _

_ “M-m-Martin?!” He shrieked, running towards the puppet that looked like him.  _

_ “Itsok Jon.” Martin croaked through a raw throat and broken jaw. _

_ “W-what.”  _

_ “C-come to t-he room.” As all he managed before the vessel fell limp and before his vision went black, Marin felt a bond being cut like a rope on its last thread and Martin briefly wondered, what this meant. _

**_-2 days later-_ **

Martin woke up in the room he had known for some time now. Gertrude had shown him this room, when she saved him all those years ago. His mouth was dry and his lips were cracked but before any other thought hit his brain, he jumped out the bed he didn’t know he’d fallen into and looked for Jon. 

“Jon?” He almost whispered to himself.

“Jon? Where are you?” He spoke a little louder. 

Martin moved around the bunker, searched, scared, lighting coursing through his veins. 

“Jo-“ 

“In here!” Jon shouted back from the space where the makeshift kitchen was. 

“How did you-“ 

“Get here?” Jon finished.

Martin nodded and smelled the air 

“Coffee!” He almost shouted in betrayal “you know how much I hate that stuff!” 

“Actually, no I don’t. And to answer your first question, I’m um, I’m not sure…” 

Marin shook his head in confusion for a moment before letting it flutter from his mind. 

‘Did you….um?” He tried to ask.

“Yeah.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have told you the truth.” 

“The truth?” Jon asked. 

“It’s complicated…” Martin replied. 

“Well, “ Jon started “ I suppose you have a lot of time to explain then.

“I guess I do.” Martin agreed, as he sat down across from Jon, looking at the molten bean juice in front of him. 

“Don’t suppose you’ll be offended if I make some tea then?” 

Jon shrugged. 

Martin put the water in the kettle and watched as the water slowly came to a boil. He had a lot to explain to Jon and he wasn’t sure Jon was going to believe him he wasn’t even sure what he should tell him, there was so much to unpack concerning what Jon had just to how much did he remember about his rampage to the coffee and well...that feeling, that he was also undoubtedly feeling right now, that strange knot in his chest that continued to twist and turn up every moment he looked at Jon. Martin shook his head and breathed in.

“Focus you idiot.” he mumbled to himself as his water began to boil and with it, a wave of relief began to swoop over him.

“You could have told me.” Jon mumbles , when Martin finally sits across from him.

Martin stiffens and he grips his cup tightly.

“Would you have believed any of this?” Martin asks.

“I,” Jon pauses “I  _ can _ kill someone, almost anyone, with a wave of my fingers and a thought.” 

“I know.” Martin mumbles.

“I was chased out of my home by another “avatar” and you can disappear and somehow manipulate other people’s bodies. That’s all pretty unbelievable.” 

“Would you have believed  _ me _ though?” Martin asked. 

Jon sighed. 

“I’m not even a teenager yet but here I am. Drinking coffee and talking to you like the weight of the world is on my back.” 

“It kind of is.” Martin replies.

“That doesn’t really help.”

“Sorry.” 

Jon takes another sip from his cup. 

“Is there any way out of here?” 

“Yes and no.” 

“I wish you would answer directly instead of dancing around it.” Jon sighed.

“Sorry…” 

“It’s fine, just…”

“Right.” Martin looked into his cup “yes, we can theoretically get out of here and possibly do that unharmed but no because Director Bouchard and the rest of them have a far reach on the outside.”

“How do you know this?” Jon asked. 

“Gertrude told me.” 

“Gertrude is that person who got you out of your Unit?” 

Martin nodded.

“How did you-“

“Lucky guess.” Jon said.

“Right…..” Martin sighed into his tea.

And after a long moment, the air went silent, the tension in the room loosened and paled. They both had questions that needed to be answered, plans that needed to be discussed but….

“ Why would you just expect me to listen to you?” Jon finally asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“ I mean, what grounds do I have to believe you? Believe that you are on my side.”

“On your side?” Martin asked numbly.

“I have a purpose! “ Jon shouted “ I was told that I am important and I would have stayed if you hadn’t messed with my mind.” 

“Would you care about a bomb if you knew it was a bomb?” Martin asked coldly. 

“What are you talking about!” Jon demanded. 

“You’re not important to them Jonathan.” Martin said calmly in an attempt to keep the situation from getting out of hand “you're like a tool to them, like a piece of furniture, they don’t care if you live or die.” 

“And you do?” Jon quipped.

“Y-yes.” Martin admitted. 

Silence over took the makeshift kitchen as Jon and Martin both considered their shared situation. 

“Can I ask you about something?” Jon asked into the strained silence. 

“Yeah…” Martin replied, his attention fully on Jon. 

“I saw something wrong, back there, when you...um escaped the units. It was like someone put a happy memory into my brain. Did you see that too?” 

_ When Martin was being hauled away, Jon saw something that was like a memory except not exactly. _

_ Like deja vu but backwards.  _

_ Jon had seen Martin, except he was older, taller and happier. He was standing in a field, dressed for the cold air that accompanied the place they once called home. He had been laughing and pushing at someone who looked almost exactly like Jon himself. This version of him was older too, he was wearing winter clothes that hung off his small frame like he had purposefully bought it two sizes up. His hair was much longer than he thought possible, it was knitted in a bun and there were streaks of white and grey that made Jon think for a moment that he was somehow older than Martin. But most striking about his physical appearance were his eyes, they were no longer the dark green he’d grown accustomed to seeing since he got here, no, they were their original brown. _

_ They were both happy and very close. And Jon felt this closeness fill his being at the moment. It almost gave him strength, but it was a strength he couldn’t describe. Jon could say that he has “loved” before, he loved his grandmother (of course in a rigid and strict sort of way), he loved Simon and Mike but that was more like admiration and brotherly. The warm feeling that bubbled in Jon’s chest in the moment he saw that flash of whatever it was and now, couldn’t be described by any word Jon knew off hand. But despite the happiness that filled the atmosphere of his fake memory, Jon was filled with a dread he had never known before.  _

“Yes, I did.” Martin replied, his blue eye locked on Jon’s green ones.


	8. Knowing the ending...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's not the dream you are seeing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT AND I KNOW ITS GOING TO BE A LITTLE OUR OF PLACE BUT I PROMISE THERE IS PLAN AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> cw: for unexpecting kissing also sadness and possible death and a lot of confusion

Jon is awake when Martin starts to dream. He isn't sure why but it seems like every time his companion goes into REM his body wakes up and he is able to witness his dreams like a show that has been projected directly into his eyes.

Martin hasn't been subtle about his crush since they both turned eighteen. When they were younger Jon used to think all of Martin’s annoying mannerisms were because he was an overly friendly kid who obviously never had any friends before. It wasn’t until Jon first witnessed Martin’s dreams at the age of fifteen that he realized he was wrong.

The space they had been confined to has only grown smaller throughout the years, it’s difficult to go through important phases in life while under the constant peril of death lurking above the surface. It’s suffocating and at times Jon feels like he is going to go insane from the mundanity of it all. 

But then one night he wakes up and Martin is deep into sleep and he begins to witness a world that is far beyond the one they are currently experiencing and Jon’s entire world changed in a matter of minutes that drag on like hours.

_ Jon and Martin are in a cabin that is so far from where they are now. There are rolling green fields and the weather is almost always ideal.  _

_ Their home is cozy, although compared to their current situation, anything would be, and their days are bright and warm. The cabin smells like nutmeg and vanilla. Jon can feel the warmth coming off the fire as Martin starts the flames and drapes a blanket over him. _

_ “Do you want to go out tonight?” Martin asks Jon before sitting so close to him, their thighs and shoulders are pressed into each other.  _

_ Jon sees himself look at Martin and laugh, his eyes are not quite right and it makes his stomach turn. _

_ “Why would I want to do that when you’ve made it nearly impossible to leave?” _

_ “I'm trying to see if you can escape my trap.” Martin’s contented smile gets a little wider and Jon can feel his heart thrum. _

_ “Well fortunately, your tarp is working too well and i think i’d rather stay in.” _

_ “Then what shall we do for dinner?” Martin asks, his head tilting closer to Jon’s. _

_ “I’m not picky,” Jon says, following Martin’s movements “ as long as it’s with you.” _

_ Jon watches as their lips connect like magnets. Jon’s eyes close instinctively and he feels the touch on his lips and pounding in his heart before he yells loudly. _

_ “Stop it!”  _

_ And Martin wake’s up sending Jon reeling out of bed, with the suddenness of it all. _

_ “What happened? Are you okay?” Martin jumps over to him, not realizing he had an audience to his thoughts. _

Jon isn’t sure why Martin like’s him like this. It’s actually a thought he lingers on every time Martin has a new dream, be they about him or not. Eventually he settles on the idea that it’s because of the proximity and not because there is anything actually special about him, no matter how much he’d like to believe to the contrary.

This night is different though. When Jon wakes up and he looks over at Martin, wondering what he’ll dream about next, before being pulled into a nightmare beyond anything he could imagine. 

Normally, he’ll see himself or Martin as adults. As grown or older in some capacity and it that fact that has given Jon comfort over the years, that distance it all seemed from them.

Tonight however, wasn’t that forgiving to Jon’s comfort as he realized the others had been.

_ Jon realizes right away that tonight he is an actor rather than a spectator and his stomach bubbles with the dread of the situation. _

_ “Hey, Jon” another male voice rings out from the empty space around him “Jon?? Earth to Jon? Jon!”  _

_ Jon finally snaps back to reality and he sees Tim waving a hand in front of him. _

_ “Yes!” Jon snaps up “sorry, I got a little lost in thought there.”  _

_ “I can see that, are you alright buddy?” Tim asks, halfheartedly.  _

_ “I’m fine,” Jon starts as he looks around the room “where’s Martin?”  _

_ Tim stares at Jon for a long moment and it does not help quell the dread making its way to the surface of Jon’s body. _

_ “Jon, are you sure you're okay?” Tim asks seriously this time, his brow kitted in concern. _

_ “Of course i am! “ Jon states before getting back to the matter at hand “ I just asked where Martin was..?” _

_ Tim’s stare fails to soften and it makes Jon sweat. There is a long moment of tension between the boys before Tim finally speaks.  _

_ “I’m going to get Sasha okay? I’ll be right back.” _

_ Jon nods in agreement and as he watches Tim leave the pit in his stomach digs itself deeper. What the hell is going on?  _

_ Not too long later, Sasha comes bursting in the room and before Jon can get a word into edgewise, she wraps her arms around him and begins to cry.  _

_ “Jon, I know this is harder on you than it has been on us, but you need to come back okay?” _

_ “Come back?” Jon asks _

_ “Jon.” Sasha says calmly “where are we right now?”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ The tears in her eyes are thick and fall like rain in the summer. His heart sinks as he realizes that her eyes are green, just like his. _

_ “Sasha!” he pushes her away “where am i?!”  _

_ “Jon please calm down.” she pleas desperately  _

_ “Just tell me where we are.” Jon demands. _

_ “You know I can't, “she cries some more “ that isn't how it works.” _

_ “Sasha” Jon feels himself begin to cry “where is Martin?” _

_ “Where is he!” Jon shouts at the girl in front of him. _

_ She wipes the tears from her face and stares him down. Her glare paralyzes him, like a million eyes watching him and all he can do is stare at her.  _

_ “Please Sasha,” he begs “where is he.”  _

_ “I’m so sorry, Jon.” she whimpers and it echoes off the book filled walls around them. _

_ “Please..” chokes out before he feels his body go limp and his mind falling asleep. _

“Sasha!” Jon yells once more and he is out of the hell designed solely for him.

Lying on the floor Jon feels the comforting presence of Martin before he can see him.

“Jon,” Martin says as he pulls him off the floor and onto his bed “are you okay?” 

Jon looks at Martin for a moment and admires all the features of him he didn't know he was missing. It takes no longer than a heartbeat of time before Jon leans in kisses him letting the tears roll freely from his eyes he pulls away, apologizing for brash action.

“I’ve just missed you so much and I thought you were gone, they kept telling me you were gone.” 

Many emotions cross Martin’s face and many questions fight to leave his lips and if he were quicker he’d have beat Jon to talking. So hopefully they have another time to discuss all of this.

“We have to leave soon. I can’t lose you again.”


	9. ....but never the outcome

This always happened once, twice, a few times a month. Tim would always be the first to realize what was happening and Sasha would be forced to remedy the situation. 

It never brought her any joy when she had to rummage around in Jon’s mind, in fact it did the exact opposite.It really stressed her out. 

Jon’s mind was like a jungle that one could get lost in for hours even days without realizing it. 

If she was smart she’d steer clear of it but she cared about Jon more than her own self preservation. So when he got like  _ this  _ she’d take a dive into his mind and do her best to make him feel better. 

Martin had died almost two years ago. Sasha had met him a few times before the Unknowing and found him to be quite pleasant. He was kind, always had a soft smile on his face, especially when he was with Jon.

Sasha often wondered what it would be like to have someone that in love her and how she’d deal with losing them…

Normally she’d take this mindset with her when she went to comfort Jon. 

“Martin loved you.” She’d mumble, not understanding that Jon already knew that, and it only made the loss worse.

“He’s in a better place.” She knew this never really worked.

“We’re here for you, you’re not alone.” Of course he was alone, who could actually understand his loss?

From what she understood, this never helped cease the shouting in his mind, only dulled it to a whisper that only he could hear. There had to be a better way, a permeate solution to this ongoing problem. 

Unlike the average person, who’s subconscious was like a bookstore stacked in neat rows and proper titles; Jon’s mind was like a tangled mess, like she was stepping in the same book store during a hurricane

It had taken many dives into the abyss to figure out why. When Sasha learned why, her heart shuttered and she scrambled to get out get out get out of his head. 

Jon was almost if not exactly, like her.

“J-Jon.” Sasha mumbled once she was somewhat recovered from the horror in his mind.

“yes.” He practically whispered, his head slumped on the desk, his eyes were unfocused and he seemed to not be entirely, there. 

“what kind of avatar are you?” 

Jon barely reacted.

“All of them, i guess.” 

The air left her body as she left the room and went for Tim. 

How has she not seen this before? Had he been hiding it at all? She could only- Elias only- goddamn it! Where was Gertrude or Gerry when she needed them. Dead, that’s where they were.

“Tim,” Sasha grabbed him by the arm, taking him in an empty room “ we have a problem.” 

Tim would have to admit that he didn’t take Sasha’s concern seriously right away. Mostly because more often than not, she’d pull him away like that when they weren’t discussing serious topics like this. 

Tim listened as she sputtered out broken thought after broken thought and finally landed on 

“How did you get _ here _ ? Can you please tell me, the truth.” 

Tim bit his lip, he hated talking about it, the thought of his brother filled him up with shame, anger and guilt, mostly guilt. But he agreed anyway, knowing what she needed and wanting to help her, wanting to know what was wrong with Jon. Wondering if maybe she had a solution to all of this. So he began...

_ I’ve willingly told you about Danny. And about why I’m here. We finished that. But I haven’t told you about the murders. And how I ended up finding this place.  _

_ After Isaw what happened to Danny..I was willing to settle with just killing whoever I could that seemed even remotely involved with his death. It was easy and eventually it became fun. I haven’t been killing those freaks long before it seemed like I was slowly losing sight of who I was and I couldn’t place why exactly. _

_ I guess now I realize that the fun killing them was more like, the fun finding them. It was satisfying in the way that this is satisfying for you except….different, I’m sure you know that. _

_ That wouldn't haven’t bothered me now, except then, I was still normal and with every death, something happened and I don’t really know how to explain it, not even now.  _

_ It felt like the death was consuming me like a drug and began to get scared. I’d walk down the street at night and be able to suss out who had hurt someone, who had killed, raped, cheated on their wife, etc. They didn’t really matter to, even though I was disgusted as hell. _

_ And then one night it happened.  _

_ I honestly thought it was funny at first. “I’ve turned into the Big Bad Wolf, oh so scary” I would say to myself. It was helpful, you know to catch the bad guys. The ones who had killed my brother. And I got to be a beast so it made the clean up...uh easier. _

_ But then slowly, there stopped being bad guys that were connected. The trail ran cold and no matter how many of those freaks I could tear to shreds I never got any further to….I never got any further to….  _

_ When I hit that first plateau, I didn’t know how to cope properly.  _

_ An officer picked me up one night on my way to my dealers house. It wasn’t a normal stop though. She um. Well you know how Daisy can be.  _

_ I think she was hunting me down, for what number of crimes I had committed I can only guess. If that was even the reason she was hunting me down. And when she brought me to the spot where she’d take care of her other victims…. _

_ I’m not an easy boy to put down and I think she regrets figuring that out the hard way. I’m sure her girlfriend didn’t appreciate the new scar on her face anymore than I appreciated having to give it to her.  _

_ And then like a whirlwind, next thing I know, I’m here acting like a goddamn dog for these freaks….hunting down kids that strike their fancy and….getting my share in the process.  _

_ I think you know the rest, Sasha.  _

Sasha sighs, relief filling her face like she just got over a bad stomach ache, maybe she had.

“Thank you…” she mumbles, still collecting her thoughts. 

“Yeah, no problem, now are you going to tell me what happened.” 

She nods at him and draws in a deep breath.

“You know how Jon has been acting since…” she trails off not needing to explain further 

“Yeah?” Tim nods. 

“Well...it’s like this. Jon isn’t himself, obviously, but what I mean by that is he isn’t completely like us either...he has more than one patron…” 

Tim stared at her, a little more confused than he oughta be. 

“How?” 

“Elias…”

“That bloody bastard, of course he’s behind this.” 

“And Daisy….and Simon…and” 

“Okay, okay, I get it” Tim cut her off “but what does that have to do with him acting like this?” 

Sasha chews her lip for a moment, considering the information she’s about to give out.

“He has a power that's almost like mine and as strange as it is too say… his past version is figuring that out and our present, his future is being re-written…”

Tim’s eyes boggled.

“I’m lost Sash..”

“He can see into the future, like i can see into the past. His strength is “fixing” the world to his will. Jon doesn’t want Martin to die…”

Tim took a deep breath and sighed, trying to process the information. This was all so much easier when it was just the two of them.

“What do we have to do?” Tim asked.

“We have to talk to him, see if he even knows what he can do, if he understands that what he does, could kill us, even him.”

“Okay..” Tim mumbled, hoping to god or whoever there was, that Jon was level headed enough to listen. 

—-

Jon’s head lulled down and it felt like marbles were in his head, clack clack clacking again against each other. 

Jon grabbed his head and he wished he could get them to stop. 

He groaned. 

And one moment, he was there in the room, full of books and dust. 

The next, he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t in the room.

He wasn’t in his unit.

He wasn’t in the vast, though it seemed that way from how black it was, how even though there was no light, he could see the space beyond him, like staring at a screen when it was off, reflective emptiness.

“Where am I?” He asked out loud, but his voice died in his voice and only echoed in his mind. 

“Jon”Sasha called out to him.

‘Yes?” He questioned into the inky blackness.

“Do you know what you are?” 

“I think so,” Jon started “ I think, Elias wants to use me, for something but I don’t know what and I think,” he pauses again clutching his head in pain, he can see something, far off but not quite his, Jon hates when this happens, it’s so inconvenient “he’s alive…” 

“Jon!” Sasha yells frantically “Jon you need to stay away from that! Please!” 

“I can't, you have to understand that I can’t.” 

Jon felt something tug tightly on his shoulder and he yelps with the pain of it all, so much so fast. 

“What if it were me? What if it were Tim?” 

“Jon that isn’t fair.” Sasha mumbles.

“I’ll be back,” Jon says softly “please just let me say goodbye.” 

Sasha bites her lip, knowing he’s lying.

“Jon…” she whimpers.

“Please…” he begs.

Sasha knows she is going to regret it. 

“Bring him home safely and please don’t forget about the rest of us, Jon.”

———

“Jon, I don’t understand.” Martin says, pushing him off “What are you talking about?”

Jon takes in a deep breath, and exhales slowly. The act isn’t out of frustration, but more of a calming measure, he hasn’t seen Martin’s face in what’s felt like forever and he’d hate to lose his sense right now and make this more difficult than it was going to be. 

“Do you remember when I escaped the Lonely Units?”

Martin nods and his eyes widen waiting for Jon to continue. 

“Martin, we’re going to find a book somewhere, that Gertrude wrote telling us about a ritual attempting to be performed that we’re going to stop.” 

“What does this have to do with the question you just asked?” 

Jon sighs, trying to steal his nerves for this next portion.

“I promise I’ll get to it but what I’m going to tell you right now, you need to be prepared for this, okay?”

Martin nods. What the hell are you supposed to say to  _ that _ .

“At the time, when I was in the units, I thought you were dead. And the reason it affected me so...deeply was because of what we both saw.”

“Jon, I though we-“

“I know. I know. But it’s true. And for that time I was exactly myself. I was still me I just...I was me now and me when I saw older…”

Jon paused, giving Martin a second, seeing if he would catch on.

“What are you saying?”

“I didn’t just kill the people in the units and their handles, Martin. I killed Peter too.” 

This took Martin aback and he sat down on a nearby chair in a vain attempt to gather his thoughts. 

Ever since that day he’d felt partially cut off from himself, the “lonely” part of himself and he wondered if that was because he was with Jon, if it was because the larger part of himself was  _ happy  _ that the distance between him and his childhood was finally growing larger. 

“Why?” Martin whispered to the cup in his hands.

“Because I thought it would say save you.” 

“Save me? Save me from what?” 

“Save you from dying.” Jon said shakily.

“Jon, I don’t understand….” 

“I know you don’t,” Jon said as he cupped Martin’s face in his hand “ I can’t expect you to. Martin I can see so many different things, so many different times, I can see a conversation before it ends or even begins. I know nothing I say will ever satisfy the questions you have but you have to understand this, if nothing else; I know the ending of your life. I know what will happen, even if you do come with me. But I’ve seen the endings where we’re safe and this place is just a thing of the past, a bad memory and you have to believe that I’m telling you the truth, that’s the ending I want and that’s why I’m asking you to do this with me.” 

Martin had to think about it, if Jon knew the outcome of his ignorance, if all this was pointless anyway, then maybe just maybe it was worth it. 

“Then let’s go.” Martin laughed as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. 

He kissed Jon this time and one moment his eyes were closed and they were in a deep room hidden from the eye and Elias, next his eyes were open and they were in a room with a crying girl and boy with a manic grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to alllll my favorite people!! I hope you were all safe and have fun!! I really hope you all enjoy this chapter and the ones to come! Thank you for reading!!!


	10. I’ll risk the world for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all loved Martin so much, they were willing to change him forever

I guess I’m not worth thinking about. What’s the point in anything, well the point is to wake up, go to sleep, eat, drink, and suffer appernely. Where did I go wrong that I lost all the good things that I’ve done, crumbled and are nothing, what am I doing wrong? 

Martin snaps and pushes his friends away, shouting at them to, “Just leave me alone! I don’t even know you.” 

The room is quite, the tensions so thick it blinds them, except, wait, that’s not that tension is that fog?

“Martin…” Jon’s voice croaks out “you need to stop, you’re going to kill them.” 

“Who cares!” Martin yells at him “I don’t know them, I don’t know this place, I don’t know you!”

Jon steps back, his heart struck with the weight of those words, tears trickle down his cheek and sizzle off the clouds of fog, never hitting the ground. 

This snaps Martin out of his panic, long enough for Sasha to step in and understand. 

But the fact that he knew the girls name and what she could do, made him panic further.

“Ju-usst get away from me!” Martin ran down the hall into his room, now caring too look at its surroundings, his headache like a muscle after an intense bout of exercise and each pulse of pain was followed up by a burst of knowledge, things he definitely shouldn’t have known. 

Jon and Sasha looked at eachother, concern was drawn all over their faces and Tim hated being out of the loop. 

“Come on guys! You know I can’t do that freaky mind thing like you can!” 

But Jon and Sasha weren’t locked in conversation, they were locked in fear.

“What if-“ Sasha said before cutting herself off. 

“It’s impossible.” Jon answered 

“But what if?” Sasha said she'd begun biting her lip as her eyes glowed and was lost deep in her mind searching for answers.

“What is going on!” Tim demanded.

Jon looked at Tim and nudged his head, opposite the direction Sasha was headed and although Tim heisted, he followed.

“Is she going to be okay?” Tim asked before Jon could even think of where to begin.

“She should be…”Jon said honestly.

“Should?”

“You know i can't promise anything.” 

“What’s going on, what’s wrong with Martin?”

“Sit down, okay?”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, well, we don't know yet.” 

Tim hated this, he hated not knowing for sure and it wasn't like he couldn’t trust Jon and Sasha but they sometimes had a habit of keeping things from him because they were worried he wouldn’t be able to handle the information. Tim appreciated the sentiment but it still annoyed him.

“He’s just trying to get used to the world, he doesn’t remember completely because this isn't exactly our Martin, it's uh we kind of I kind of stole him from another place.”

“Stole him??” Tim’s eyes pop out of his head “where did you steal him from?” 

Jon takes in a deep breath and for the briefest of moments considers that maybe Sasha and him should tell Tim what they’re doing before they’ve finished doing it. 

After Jon has explained everything to a manageable level for Tim and Sasha has returned from her space inside Martin’s mind, the look of concern and flicker in her eyes, does not set Jon at ease.

“So there’s a chance he’ll die again?” Tim asks.

Jon nods in agreement.

“Because he’s not used to this world?” 

Jon nods again.

“And if he gets sick, there’s nothing you or Sasha can do to save him?” 

Jon shakes his head in disagreement.

“We can do something but it isn’t a good idea.” 

“Any idea sounds like a better idea than him dying.” 

“You’re right.” Sasha says “but he has more than once and he’ll keep dying unless we….”

“No!” Jon shouts “we aren’t doing that!”

“We have to Jon, it’s the only way…”

“Do what!” Tim shouts at them both “I am getting so sick and tired of you and Jon keeping this from me and just expecting me to understand!” 

Jon and Sasha look at Tim, their eyes slightly glowing as their thoughts pass between each other, they’re scared because when Tim gets angry, his body shifts into something barely recognizable as human. This isn't a surprise because Jon and Sasha know this can happen to the other Avatars, it's just never happened to Tim, he’s always been laid back, calm, and he was never bothered by the fact that Jon and Sasha sometimes accidentally left him and...Martin out of...him and Martin.

“Tim, we’re sorry.” Sasha says once the silence has grown unbearably quiet “if we want to make Martin better, completely, were going to have to bring back Peter.”

And then it hits Tim and maybe he didn’t want to know what the cost was because this whole world is already so messy and tangled and adding another variable to the mix would only make it worse, make it harder to control, harder to understand. 

“There isn't any other way?”

Jon and Sasha shake their heads in unison and Tim so badly wants to roll his eyes. 

“I want him back more than anyone,” Jon begins “but bringing Peter back, could remove him from us, completely.” 

Sasha bites her thumb, a habit she hasn’t indulged since she was a child, but she knows there a chance at sustaining him without Peter’s in involvement, Jon knows it too, but they both know what it's like to be like  _ this _ and they couldn’t imagine doing that to someone else, so they keep quiet. 

“You need to decide okay?” Sasha says and both Jon and Tim look at her confused “Jon and I, we know too much, we don't have tunnel vision like you, we’re going to be constantly torn and never able to make a decision, but you can't and you will.” 

Tim nods, he doesn’t argue, he doesn’t fight, he just nods.

“ How long do i have?” He asks.

“A couple of days.” They say in unison.

Tim nods again, rolling his eyes at their speech patterns this time. 

“I'll let you know tomorrow morning.” 

Jon and Sasha nod and Tim goes to his room to sleep, he already knows what he’s going to tell them, he just wants them to think he’s thought about it long enough, but they all know he hasn’t. 

In the morning Jon, Tim and Sasha wake up to the smell of Martin’s favorite tea, they’re all so lost in the daze of what happened yesterday that they forget that Martin isn't supposed to be here and walk into the kitchen for their normal morning routine.

“Good Morning, Martin.” Jon kisses him on the cheek and that’s when they all are brought back to reality.

“What the hell are you doing!” Martin’s cheeks are flush and his face is some mixture of anger and embarrassment.

Jon rubs his eyes for a moment and wants so badly to cry.

“It’s just a habit of his.” Sasha says for Jon “ but don't worry, we're going to fix everything today, right Tim?”

Tim nods and Sasha looks at Jon and nods, Martin grows ever more uneasy as Tim catches him by the arm and Sasha walks into his mind.

“I’m sorry, Jon.” Sasha whispers and its a long time before any of them see her again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope y’all have been enjoying this read as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it, i have to say that i am going to be out for the holiday season, i do apologize! I wont be back until the 2nd of January but that is only one week off from my normal schedule, hope you understand and have a happy and safe holidays! 
> 
> And don't forget to check me out on Tumblr because that’s my favorite place to hang out when the travels go on too long: https://no-name-user-name.tumblr.com/


	11. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! And I apologize there is a bit of bug gore in the first part of this chapter also a lot of sad and mad!

Sasha entered what felt like a door and looked like a wall, when her foot crossed the threshold she caught the feeling of falling down down down deep into thoughts she couldn’t complete. 

Where am-

Who am-

What am-

Who is-

And why is-

This was a-

Martin?

Jon?

Tim?

Me. 

If her original goal was to save Peter to save Martin, her new is to save herself, to save Peter to save Martin. She chanted it to herself to keep sane in the pit she found herself in. How had this been in Martin all this time? 

When she lands, she does not hit a solid mass like she had anticipated, instead she falls into something, not quite solid, not quite liquid. It’s moving and when she realizes what’s she in, her stomach flips and bile fills her throat.

“How did this get here!” She shouts.

Millions,billions, trillions of little legs, some small, some long, some hairy, some not, but they are all fighting their way, squirming to get close to her. She hears their voices, sees their thoughts and feels them and if there was anything she wishes she could NOT do, she wishes it could be to not hear them.

_ “Hello Sasha.” One of them whispers right in her ear; it sounds familiar like a voice she knew once long ago. _

_ “How are you Sasha?” Another wiggles inside her eye and a face appears but it isn't hers.  _

_ “Would you like some tea Sasha?” She feels them in her mouth and they drink the bile and she can feel their wicked little smiles.  _

_ “Can you help me with this, Sasha.?” She feels them in her belly and there is a pain she cannot try to explain.  _

_ “You look so pretty today Sasha.” She feels them crawling out of her ears, laying their eggs, planting their doubt.  _

_ “Oh, Tim is just so lucky.” They're crawling on her brain, biting at her senses, turning them off and on like a kid flipping a switch for fun. _

_ “Come on Sasha, i just want to play.” They all collectively say and they don’t like any bug she’s ever seen before. _

_ “Sasha, Sasha, Sasha!” They chant her name and she feels the pain of them scratching away, slowly away at her, tearing her apart bit by bloody bit. _

And then she was falling again, the wind whipping past her hair, pulling it upward, she was staring at the bugs following her into the fog, their smile making her sick and dizzy but she can’t look down, he head is fixed upward and she can't decide what is worse, falling or being forced to was her potential killer chase her down. 

When she landed she fell into a plume of smoke so thick it pads her landing, her stomach turned so badly, she threw up. 

Wind blows past her hair as she walks through this sorted land, her eyes burning and bile constantly threatening to crawl up her throat and make her puke again.

_ “Oh, hello.” A voice whips past her ears “what are you doing here?” _

_ She can’t place the voice but it's so familiar that a chill shoots down her spine.  _

_ “Oh dear, please, you must remember me.”  _

_ How did it know? _

_ “My dear, Sasha. You’re really hurting my feelings.” _

_ The bile inches up her throat and pools in her mouth. And she still feels the tiny little legs crawling everywhere.  _

_ Elias.  _

_ A thunderous clap rings out around her, piercing her ears and rattling her bones. _

_ “I know why you’re here. So please before you go and ruin my plans, stay a little while.”  _

_ Why is he here? When did he get in Martin’s mind?  _

_ “What do you want?!” The words fell out of her mouth like they were pulled…but he didn’t ask her a question.  _

_ “Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question, dear Sasha. How about I just, show you.”  _

She’s flicked across the mental mind scape that is wherever she just ended up, there’s a pinprick of a light and she’s fighting to land on it. 

As she gets closer she sees herself, just older, more tired and when the light touches her skin, she feels the thing that’s wrong with her, what’s about to happen to her. She's the shadow creeping out of the corner and wrapping her up, the life slowly leaving her body, that body, this body.

“Sasha, is everything okay?” Jon asks her.

“Yes, just a bit of dizzy spell.” 

He nods, staring at her for an uncomfortably long moment.

“Right, well let's make sure the others are okay.”

“Yeah.” She breathes looking around the Archives of the Magnus Institute. 

——

“Where is she?” Tim asks for the fourth or third time in a row, he’s pacing around Martin so much that if he were awake, he’d surely be dizzy, Jon knows he is. 

“I don’t know, Tim but you need to relax, this is something none of us are used to doing.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Tim says under his breath. 

Jon rolls his eyes and tries to  _ look  _ forward, see where and when she’ll appear, his appreciation is high too and he hates to admit that he’s a bit more worried about Martin. 

When Jon sees her, she doesn’t look like herself or anyone he knows. She’s in a room, filled with files upon files and books that look to have been stamped with a symbol that fills his stomach with anger and dread. She has long blonde hair that is tied in a knot on her head, Jon doesn’t realize immediately what has happened to her just that whatever that is, isn't Sasha.

“Tim, wake Martin up!” Jon shouts suddenly, feeling the words leave his lips before he even knew what to say.

“What? Are you crazy?!” Sasha isn't back yet.

Jon bites his lip and struggles to find the words to tell his best friend the truth. 

“She might...she might not come back.” Jon mumbles.

Tim’s eyes flicker for a moment and the fear Jon feels is like needles in his veins.

“Wake him up.” He whispers “ we’re going to need him in order to get her back.”

“And how do you plan to do that?!” Tim shouts at him, accentuating his anger with a literal growl. 

“I need you to wake up Martin first.”

“I’m not stupid Jon! Tell your plan first or i'll never let you get to him.” 

Jon was in a bad position. As far as he knew Sasha wasn't alive anymore and if she was, getting to her was going to be the most painful thing he’s ever done. And as much as he hated to admit it, an angry Tim was more dangerous than a scared Martin, he needed Tim’s focus elsewhere. 

“You have to trust me.” Was all he spouted out to try and regain control of the situation.

“Jon, tell me. Right. Now.”

“You’re not going to like it.” 

“ i don't like any of this!” Tim said “I don't like being like this, i don't like hiding here, and i barely like you!” That last one hit Jon hard in the stomach with hurt and fear. Tim was becoming a little unstable and when he was fully unhinged...jon couldn’t even think about it.

“She’s trapped, she’s not in him anymore. I don't know how but something took her and placed elsewhere, except she isnt really herself.”

“What do you mean?” Tim asked.

“ i dont know.”

“What do you mean, you don't know?”

“ i don't have all the answers for everything!” Jon yelled at him.

“You had the answers when it was Martin’s life.” He scoffed. 

“Tim, you know that was different, this isn't like that, the thing I’m looking at, is not Sasha! It isn't even human and somehow, Sasha, the real one, was pulled out of our existence and replaced with whatever is lurking in those hallways. I don't know because this isn't the same thing, this isn't the same game, this is something goddamn different!” 

Jon and Tim sat there for a moment in a long thick silence. The room wasn’t filling with the fog of the lonely, the lights remained on, their vision unchanged, no one felt the presence of unwanted eyes, there was no creeping feeling of being chased, or the deep pit of one's stomach dropping endless. In that moment of strangled silence, there were only three boys, one unconscious and two ready to go for the others throat. 

“We can do this without him.” Tim said “ waking him up is only going to add another unnecessary veritable.”

“How do you know that?” Jon asked.

“Because I don't need my abilities to tell me when something is a bad idea.”

Jon bit tongue because that had been what he meant. 

“We are going to have to leave him here.” Jon said.

“Where are we going?” 

“Unfortunately,” Jon sighed “we’re going to have to find Elias.” 

Tim clenched his fist tight and let out a deep huff of a breath.

“Jon.” He says pulling a chair and taking a seat.

“Yes?” Jon asks.

“If she’s dead, it’ll be all your fault.” 

Jon nods, because he knows it already is. 


	12. Friends and allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re going to need allies if they’re going to confront Elias and Jon knows exactly who to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So am sorry for my long absence, I was having a bad time with my metal health and then COVID attacked. I’m not completely at 100% but I’m a lot better than i was a month ago, hopefully you are all still here with me and i hope you enjoy this short chapter!

Jon sat in the hallway that connected the place they had been living from the other parts of the facility. The hallway stretched for what, to the untrained eye, would seem like miles and Jon breathed a sigh of relief. 

“You’re going to have to trust me out here.” He told Tim.

Tim just nodded and tightly held on to the sleeve on Jon’s oversized sweater.

There are two varying perspectives of what exactly happened next, and truth is some amalgamation of both of them.

Jon and Tim walked through the hallway that was very in tuned with The Vast, for Jon, the walk was a peaceful stroll that only lasted ten? Maybe fifteen minutes. The walls that would appear blank to anyone else, look like beautiful shining light and made Jon’s eyes sparkle, he missed being outside, he missed Simon, and he was almost excited he was going to get to see both of them today. 

He worked over how he was going to ask Simon for help, in his mind. He knew that if he asked him a direct question that led to Simon being impulsed to answer, they’d lose any and all semblance of their former relationship and neither him or Tim would make it out of there alive. Simon, like any sensible person, hated when someone used their powers on him but he had some of his own and would happily kill them should that line be crossed.

Jon tries every night to forget what happened to Mike. 

  
  


Tim on the other hand, was much less thrilled about this trip. When Jon and Sasha first learned about this place that Gertrude built deep in the territory of the Vast, Tim was staunchly against going.

_ “It’s the only way I can guarantee your safety.” Sasha had said to him. _

_ “It’s in, ugh I hate the creepy old man.” _

_ “If we’re lucky, we won’t run into him.” _

_ “What if we do?”  _

_ “Then….” Sasha trailed off and Jon answered for her. _

_ “He’ll let us through.” _

_ “How do you know.” _

_ “Tim, you just have to trust me.”  _

_ And Tim did trust him, more than once, with many things. Tim trusted Jon with his life and would have trusted him longer, if it was for...never mind. _

The hallways gave Tim the creeps. Jon and Sasha told him that it was just an illusion and that if he were in any real danger, they would have picked another place. 

That wasn’t as reassuring as she’d meant it to be, but now that her life was in danger he would walk through a million of these hallways to see her safe and Martin safe. Tim can’t help but blame Jon for all of this but also knows it isn’t completely his fault. 

Someone just gave an emotionally stunted kid supernatural powers and left him unsupervised. The same could be said for Sasha, sure but she wasn’t as difficult as Jon, she made things easier for Tim, maybe because she bothered to talk to him instead of just already knowing him. 

“How much longer?” Tim asks. His voice echoes through the walls and it seems like an eternity passes before Jon turns his head and answers. 

“We’re actually almost there…”

“Oh.” 

“Tim.” Jon says. 

“Yeah?”

“When we get there….” Jon bites his lip. 

“Yes?” 

“Just don’t provoke him okay?” 

“Why would you say that?” 

Jon stops and Tim can feel his body trembling. Each vibration of Jon’s shaking form takes longer than it actually does to reach him and he places his hand on his shoulder. 

“I’ll behave, I swear.” Tim tries to smile and Jon just nods in reply. So much for lightening the mood.

_ Jon can see Simon in his room, highball full of some alcohol that probably cost more than this entire facility. The cameras hidden in the walls give Jon great advantage when it comes to spying on the happenings of the Vast’s portion of the facility. That’s how he found out about Mike. But now there’s Simon, sitting and watching them. He hasn’t had much entertainment since Jon has left and Elias has kept him on a tight leash after what happened to Peter.  _

_ “That wasn’t my fault!” Simon had shouted at Elias. _

_ “That’s besides that point.” Elias said back.  _

_ “Then give me another trainee.” Simon sneered.  _

_ “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. Your last one went missing after only a couple weeks out of your care and….” he trailed, his words faltering only a moment but enough to show his true emotions “Director Lukas is dead.”  _

_ Simon hated their relationship, it made him sick. _

_ “My money funds this facility.”  _

_ “Yes but as I recall I am acting Chairman.”  _

_ Simon gritted his teeth. _

_ “Fine, then what will you have me do?”  _

_ Elias looked at Simon, like he was rolling that question around in his mind the way water rolls a stone on a lakebed, slow and methodically. Elias knew what he was going to have him do but wanted to see Simon squirm, wanted to feel that anticipation grow in the air until it was thick and nearly toxic. _

_ “You and your final charge can stay here. Consider it a sentence of sort, for the death of a fellow Director.”  _

_ “What was your plan?” Simon asked. _

_ “I’m sorry?”  _

_ “To deal with Lukas, what was your original plan?”  _

_ Elias blinked a couple times and turned his back on Simon. Maybe a prison sentence was too lenient for his crimes.  _

_ Jon felt the same at the time but was grateful that he seemed to be willing to let them hide there. And worried at what will happen now, he’s been there alone for so long.  _

“Jon?”

“Jon?”

“Jon!”

Tim removes his hand from Jon’s sleeve and Jon grabs his hand. 

“Don’t let go!” Jon hisses. 

They’ve stopped walking. The tension between is thick. 

Jon feels guilt over the situation and Tim's immense anger.

Jon wants nothing more than for them to move and work together. 

Tim really wants to punch Jon. 

“What else am I supposed to do! You weren’t answering me.”

“Sorry I got lost.” Jon says. 

“Lost?!” Tim nearly shouts and Jon realizes his poor choice in words. 

“We’re close to Simon's chambers and I was….thinking about him.”

“What about him?”

Jon searches Tim’s eyes, he misses Martin. He misses Sasha. They knew how to talk to him. How to calm him down. As close as they were, Tim saw Jon as another monster, complicit in his brother’s death; Jon didn’t need powers to know this.

“I’m just thinking about what Elias did to him.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

Jon and Tim walk a little longer. Their hands not letting go, when they get to the steps of Simon’s door, Jon knocks.

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Pause. 

Knock. 

There’s a whooshing sound on the other side. 

The doors fly open. 

And Jon and Tim are pulled inside.


	13. Walking Home

Sasha James was trying her best to adjust to her new body and life. It was uncomfortable to her that she was now almost a decade older and was thrown into a life she hadn’t lived before. The night she’d first come here, she had used the phone she found in her pocket to find her flat and spent almost an hour looking for her unit. The outside air was strange, she hadn’t felt it in years, she couldn’t tell, what had and hadn’t changed, due to how long it had been since she was outside and because this wasn't her life, it was very disorienting. 

Elias had allowed her to keep her powers and she was more than thankful for that because she’d be lost around them but she wasn’t stupid. She knew this was a part of his game and she wasn’t going to let herself get too comfortable in his petty game.

She has a job at the Magnus Institute, a place similar in name to the facility she was kept at but different in design and purpose. Wherein this place is like an all you can eat buffet for the Eye and only the Eye unlike the facility she came from that was like an American mall, a food court of option for all the Eldritch horrors.

She worked in research here, essentially, Jon was an Archivist here and when a statement was recorded, Tim, Martin, or herself would go and attempt to verify the claim. For her it was simple and terrifying, because she knew more than half of what was happening was really happening and that even though this world was different, nothing had changed. 

Perhaps the biggest change she had to admit were the people and watching them live their lives while she tried to get back to hers was like watching them through a window knowing that if she broke the glass and interacted but that they wouldn’t understand, possibly wouldn't care, or even worse, they would. 

But that want the most difficult pill to swallow, what struck the darkest chord with her was realizing how different this Jon was from the one she left behind. 

Here, he was stiff and rude, he acted like a rich kid among the people who were disenfranchised by his daddy’s work and acted like peers among them. He was small and insecure unaware of the damage that was about to be done to him.

The Jon she knew was a kind person who didn’t always know how to show his emotions in the healthiest but never went out of his way to be malicious to anyone he cared about, especially not Martin. 

Sasha had realized early that Elias had chosen him here too and it breaks her heart for many reasons that she couldn’t begin to put into words. The best way she could describe it was that even though this Jon was destined for the same path, the connection they shared had served like it had never existed to begin with. 

When she would talk to him or look at him she could tell he was growing more and more terrified about the world around him and wanted to tell him everything was okay but she knew he would only begin to treat her like a threat if she did. 

Sasha found little solace in this new world she was in and one of those solaces happened to be the person she loved. Despite his lack of fear abilities, this Tim the same Timothy she had left outside of this world. When they were walking down the hall and he grabbed her hand and kissed it softly.   
  


The grad tire would have made her smile if had not looked up at her with fear instead of love in his eyes. Her heart leaped into her throat and she could have smacked herself on the forehead, how could she have been so stupid?!

Later that week when Martin came in freaking out and telling her all about how he was held captive by worms in his apartment and Sasha knew immediately who and what was responsible. She want to tell him I’m detail what to do but knew that he’d be safe and she had to go and save her own.

“Martin..” she says to him, that same day as he’s bringing her a cup of tea.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“I need to tell you something that is going to sound crazy.” She say to him.

“Uh..okay??” 

“Martin, this is going to be a lot and think it’d be best if you took a seat.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mild bit of skepticism that didn’t fit him. 

She reached for his hand that was sitting on the table between them, he flinched and his brow furrowed, he was about to say something to her along the lines of ‘Sasha you know I’m not like that’ but the smile on her lips tells him that isn’t what she’s getting at either. 

When her fingers fully grasp around his, she’s able to show him what has happened to her, well a enough of it to convince him that she’s not crazy. 

Martin jumps back and she lets go. He removes his glasses and just stares at her in complete disbelief. 

“Sash.” He says trying to form a sentence “Sasha what was, what was that?” 

She bites her lip and winces in pain, she’s picked up the nasty habit recently and it’s caused a little sore spot to well up on her lip. 

“What do you  _ think  _ it was?” She asks him, not really wanting to scare him any further. 

“I don’t, I don’t know what that was!” He says a little too loud, not out of anger but out of fear. 

“Do you know those statements Jon has been reading?” She asks him.

“Oh god, Sasha…” Martin says, the picture in his mind starting to come together of where this is going.

“It’s not  _ all  _ true….” She tried to reassure him, watching as the glass continues to crack.

“But enough of it is…” his voice cracks “and..and does Jon or anyone else know about this?” 

Sasha looks around, feeling Elias watching her close with anticipation. She hasn’t seen him since he put her here; more than anything else, not seeing him has made her scared of what he could possibly be doing. 

“I can’t really tell you that…” she says “but Martin…something is going to happen and I’m not going to be around much longer…” 

She saw what was going to happen to Sasha and the only way to prevent it from happening would be to stay and she wishes she could stay but she needs to go home. 

His eyes sparked a million questions that she truly wished she could answer but instead she grabbed his hand again, remembering her friends back home. 

“Be safe for me, okay?” She asks him before entering the door of his mind once more.

  
  


She doesn’t fall this time, at least not for long before landing on her feet. She knows finding Peter here will be a lot more difficult, this Martin hasn’t been marked yet and wishes here’s wasn’t either.

As she digs through the statements he’s listens and watches too, seeing the stamp of the man who foolishly thought he could save the world from things he did not understand, when the blaring of horn rings off in the distance. 

Her head snaps up and she runs through every door she can find before she sees it  _ The Tundra. _

  
  
  



End file.
